Conjuring a Heart
by Uppity Bitch
Summary: In New Orleans, Caroline is a respected voodoo priestess, whose power is eclipsed only by her stubbornness. When Klaus seeks her out for her power, sparks fly, but not in the way either of them ever imagined. *Nominated for 2015 Klaroline Award - Best Underrated Fiction
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Vampire Diaries_ or _The Originals_. Of course, after those finales, would you want to? Let's hope the writers have more to show us than Klaus' clumsily-worded promise (plea?) at the end that "there is always another chapter to be told." Accents and dimples can forgive a multitude of sins — except lazy writing.

Warning: This is intended to be a multi-chapter work that will at times feature mature sexual content, graphic language and violence.

Author's Note: This work takes place in an alternate universe in which Caroline will be meeting Klaus for the first time after he arrives in New Orleans. I will use aspects of canon as it suits my plot needs, but I also may incorporate new characters too, as well as familiar ones that may be wildly out of character at times. Also, I am taking extreme creative liberties with voodoo and mixing in other practices and ideas as well.

Conjuring a Heart

Chapter 1

The wind wickedly lapped at the edges of the magic circle, pushing and pulling the white blessing powder away from its perfect formation. With a jerk of her delicately pointed chin, Caroline willed the bleached dust to remain uniform. As one of the most respected and powerful voodoo priestesses in New Orleans, her reputation for perfection was well-known. Her bright blue eyes surveyed the rough-hewn walnut beam of her altar, mentally cataloguing the ingredients for her ritual. The deep purple dahlias, chunks of obsidian, dark rum, and an iron knife waited for her to wield them properly in a manner that only she could do to bring forth her desire.

Some of her followers beat a seductive rhythm on drums, working themselves into a fevered frenzy. A small circle of dancers had already cast aside most of their clothes to embrace the wild promise of nature that buzzed all around them. They danced around the large bonfire, raising their arms in celebration, their hopeful voices singing and chanting to beat back the darkness and call out the light needed for Caroline to work her will.

She stepped behind the altar and opened a black velvet bag, spilling forth ivory tiles with runes carved into each surface. She lightly touched each square, feeling a slight hum go through her body as it prepared itself to be a vessel for powerful magic. Without shame, she pulled off her white crocheted dress, throwing it carelessly near the growing pile of clothes on the bayou's spongy earth. She loved the freedom of exposing her ivory skin to the night, letting the dark shadows caress her.

She bit her lip, secretly hating the next part of the ritual. Gathering strength from the dancers and the relentless pounding drums, she quickly slashed into her arm with the iron knife, angling the flesh so that her blood would drip over the runes, connecting her life force to the spiritual plane. She quickly spread the remaining blood over her creamy breasts and tight belly, sighing with slight arousal as her feather-light touches became more seductive.

Caroline raised her voice above that of her followers' chanting: "Loa Rada, hear my plea! Open the spirit world so that we may commune with thee!" She swayed in time to the drums, feeling the beat vibrate through her bare feet as the earth absorbed the sounds of her magical gathering. She held the knife now stained with her blood high over her head and shouted, "I call forth Oshun, mother of witches! I ask for your blessing and power as we strive to help the children in our neighborhoods that must go without far too often. You are known to us for your generosity and penchant for feeding the hungry."

She gathered the purple dahlias and walked clockwise through the circle. She pursed her lips and blew against the petals in her palm, her magic whisking them away to the giant bonfire where they promptly flung themselves upon the flames, sending forth streaks of gold light. She returned to the altar, drinking deeply from the dark rum before spitting on the shimmering obsidian pieces. She gathered them in her palm and walked counter-clockwise through the circle. A great wind blew through her long blonde waves and parted the white powdered lines of the magic circle into two perfect halves.

She raised the obsidian above her head, joining the chanting of her followers as she marched to the fire and tossed in the pieces. The fire grew hotter as the flames seemed to curl around the final offering, the golden streaks of light circling the air above Caroline and her followers. With a triumphant smile, she grabbed the iron knife once more and held it above her head, shouting joyfully, "Blessings be, Loa Rada. You have answered our call!"

The jubilant cries of her followers were overshadowed by slow, mocking clapping. Outraged that a stranger had intruded upon her sacred gathering, she whirled around, brandishing the knife.

An impossibly gorgeous man with steel gray eyes and curly dirty blonde hair stood by the bonfire, smirking at her. "Now that you've played to the cheap seats, love, perhaps you'd like a taste of real power?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Caroline took in the dimples and confident stance of the intruder, trying to assess the danger. At first, she feared that he was one of the more malevolent loas, or voodoo spirits, appearing before her to demand further sacrifice or other distasteful payment. Based on the powerful aura she could feel radiating from his imposing form, she sensed that he was a dark creature, but not an actual loa. She relaxed slightly, realizing that while he could still pose a threat, she would likely be able to defend herself and her followers.

She studied him closely, refusing to feel the slightest bit of attraction toward the way his leather necklaces dangled from his shirt or the broad curve of his shoulders. She'd lived long enough in this world to recognize a predator, and in her experience, the most dangerous ones came in an attractive package. "The power I have is very real. I have no interest in gaining more," she said firmly, not once lowering her knife. She pointed its tip still covered in her blood at the stranger. "Interrupting our sacred rituals is a dangerous practice. You must be very desperate or very foolish." She cocked her head to the side. "Which is it," she demanded.

His eyes flashed a dangerous gold, signifying that Caroline was correct when she assumed he was a predator. "Neither. I have sought you out to discuss a mutually beneficial alliance of sorts."

"Not interested," Caroline announced quickly. "I have no desire to interfere with wolf business." She waved her knife toward the dark recesses of the bayou. "Stop wasting my time. Leave us, wolf."

Before she could blink, the intruder growled and quickly sped in front of her, gripping her throat with one hand. With sharp fangs bared, he hissed out, "I am Klaus Mikaelson and I am no mere _wolf_ ," he scoffed. "I am the original hybrid and you will show me proper respect, even if I have to force it upon you."

Alarm flashed through her blue eyes before she quickly masked her fear. She knew of the original hybrid, oh yes, but she had never seen him before now. Summoning her energy that had been somewhat depleted from the spell, she called out to her followers, "Leave us now." She miraculously maintained her dignity and aura of strength while being choked with his supernatural grip. She took pleasure in the confusion in his eyes, as though he was unprepared for her calm demeanor. She supposed after centuries of instilling fear into those around him, he had assumed she would be begging by now. He was in for a surprise. She did not beg.

Her followers huddled in one large group, unsure and clearly afraid. "Caroline," someone shouted, "let us stay; we can help you." The others murmured their agreement, and Caroline was touched by their bravery, even if it was foolish.

She shook her head as much as Klaus' steel fingers would allow. "No," she told them calmly. "All will be well. Trust in me." With those final words, the crowd nodded in agreement, their loyalty to Caroline was apparent. She watched her people quickly leave, keeping an eye on Klaus to ensure that he made no move to harm them. She would always protect those around her and had no qualms about taking down an enemy to do so, even one with Klaus' formidable reputation.

Once she was alone with Klaus, she chanted, her skin taking on a warm glow as she forced powerful energy through her being. In shock, Klaus released his grip, backing up a step or two to evaluate her. "Impressive, love." He clenched the hand that had been holding her, as though he was in pain but was loathe admitting a weakness.

She cocked her head, loose blonde waves flapping in the wind. "I've always been curious but never bothered to ask any of my assailants — what did it feel like when I did that trick?"

Klaus scowled, displeased that Caroline had noted his painful reaction. "It was like plunging my hand into a bonfire." He glanced at the roaring flames beside them. "Care for a demonstration?"

She wryly answered, "No thanks. I've been burned as a witch before." She shrugged her shoulders at his incredulous stare. "It didn't stick, obviously."

"Do tell, love." He clasped his hands behind his back, suddenly relaxing before her.

She shook her head. "I have no interest in sharing secrets with you. State your business and let me get on with my night."

"So impatient. Do you have more naked dancing to do?" He smirked, enjoying her annoyance. "Since you hastily dismissed your friends, allow me to offer my services." He gazed at her with hooded eyes, his voice dropping seductively, "I know how to beat a drum. And I have _excellent_ rhythm."

She waved her hands in exasperation. "Seriously? You were just trying to choke the life out of me and now you're trying to get in my pants?"

"Actually, love, you're not wearing pants, so that's half the battle won already."

In her anger, the bonfire suddenly exploded, shooting tall flames into the night sky. "State your business and leave." She gritted her teeth. "You mentioned an alliance?"

Klaus suddenly grew serious. "I have a witch problem that needs to be dealt with. Since you've heard of me, can I assume you're aware that I have a child?"

Caroline nodded. "Yes, the miracle baby caused quite a stir." She chuckled, "Does it ever concern you that your one-night stand's womb can magically alter the laws of nature? I would advise getting tested, just in case."

"Tested, love?"

"For STDs, asshat. You know the saying, 'lie down with dogs; expect some fleas'." She shook her head. "My apologies; that was petty of me. I don't know Haley personally, but I am friends with some people who know her quite well. She's been the cause of a couple of relationships breaking up since her arrival. And I _always_ side with my friends." She glared at him, as though secretly blaming him for Haley's indiscretions.

"I admire your loyalty. And if it helps, it appears that Haley has settled down nicely with a werewolf named Jackson. So I don't think your friends will need to suffer from any further dalliances."

"Too late. One of my friends was engaged to Jackson for a hot minute before he decided to 'trade up'. Werewolf queen, my ass," she huffed.

He threw back his head, laughing. "Caroline, you are a delight. So it appears that you count werewolves among your friends, then?"

She shook her head, crossing her arms protectively in front of her chest. "I have a few werewolf friends. They keep me in the supernaturally hirsute-enhanced loop." She knew better than to reveal too much of her associations with Klaus. If he knew just how well-connected she was within the community, he might try to use her power to his advantage. "So you have a witch problem — why come to me? Word is you and Marcel play nicely with the witches now. Don't you have a whole army at your disposal?"

The smug smile on his face was nauseating. Clearly he was pleased that she had such extensive knowledge of his accomplishments. "Oh yes, my kingdom is coming along nicely, love. However, I have recently been informed that an aunt I thought long-dead has been notified of my daughter's presence and has set her sights on stealing my child and using her to become an even more powerful witch." His tone grew dark and his eyes glowed golden once more. "I will not allow any harm to come to my child. I've been told that you are very powerful and may be my best weapon against Dahlia."

"First of all, I'm no one's weapon." Caroline angrily stomped her foot, sending an immense vibration through the damp earth that caused the bonfire to shudder. "And I bet I can guess who spilled the beans about me to you." She clutched her hands into fists. "Marcel is going to wake up with a shrunken head tomorrow morning."

He chuckled, "Now, sweetheart, Marcel was just being a good soldier and helping out his king. No need to ruin his pretty face."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's not the head I was referring to."

She sighed, realizing that if what Klaus claimed was true, an innocent child was in danger. Much like Marcel, she couldn't risk a child being harmed. Her friendship with Marcel had started because of a child as well. She recalled how Marcel had sought her out similarly to Klaus' approach, but she had uprooted an old pecan tree and had caused the roots to stab through his chest. While bleeding on the bayou floor, he apologized for some of his men attacking her followers and explained that he needed her help with a powerful girl named Davina. Unable to resist helping out a young girl and kindred spirit, she had willingly taken Davina under her wing and guided her magical progression. In exchange, Marcel had vowed to leave her and her followers in peace and never ask her to take sides in his war with the original hybrid. So far, she had been kept out of everything until now. Clearly, things were desperate if Marcel has decided to reveal her to Klaus.

"All right." She spoke quietly. "I will help you protect your daughter and defeat Dahlia. However, I have conditions." She bit her lip, quickly thinking of all the ways this could be a terrible idea, not the least of which was the fact that he was a ridiculously attractive creature that could figuratively break her heart, if not literally. "I will not take part in harming innocents. I also expect to maintain my freedom at all times." She pointed a finger at him accusingly, "Just because I agreed to this alliance doesn't mean you can tuck me away in your creepy fortress of solitude like you're collecting Precious Moments figurines."

Klaus didn't bother hiding his triumphant smile as he nodded in agreement. Sticking out his hand, he declared, "I believe we have an accord, sweetheart."

She hesitantly grasped his hand, but instead of the firm handshake she expected, he pulled her close to him until their chests almost touched. With one finger, he casually traced a pattern through the drying blood on her flesh, taking care to brush close to her breasts but never quite touching them. She hated the way his careful touches made her skin quiver. She watched in fascination as he placed his bloody fingertip in his mouth, savoring her flavor. Licking his pouting lips he smiled lazily, "Just as I expected, love. You are exquisite inside and out."

Before he could flash away into the night, she warned, "That's all the 'inside' you'll get to try, Klaus." He winked at her, as she turned her back on him, hoping that she could stick to that promise.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: As Caroline's background is slowly revealed, it may become apparent why her favorite shade is gray (instead of painting life in rigid black and white strokes as she does on _The Vampire Diaries_. I will endeavor to provide warnings at the beginning of those chapters that feature graphic images and violence. Also, for those of you expecting shameless, filthy, soul-wrecking smut similar to my one-shots…it's coming (so to speak). I need a few chapters to wine and dine, and then we'll follow the profound wisdom of the transcendently brilliant philosopher, Marvin Gaye.

Warning: This story features graphic images and violence. Also, Caroline and Enzo are OOC (especially Enzo).

Chapter 3

" _The world's flattery and hypocrisy is a sweet morsel: eat less of it, for it is full of fire.  
Its fire is hidden while its taste is manifest, but its smoke becomes visible in the end. "  
_― Rumi

The tiny flame danced before her eyes, impishly flickering to and fro as she sighed heavily. Caroline breathed in the sage fumes from the candle, trying to dispel the dark thoughts that came over her. Unfortunately, last night's unexpected introduction to the inconveniently sexy original hybrid had clearly made an impression. She should be used to violent displays, but Klaus merely had to whisper the threat of the bonfire to send her back to that dark time, when she had burned.

 _Caroline hurriedly walked through Jackson Square, nearly tripping over her hoop skirt as it bunched around her ivory laced slippers. Without hesitation, she flung open the wrought iron gate and marched up the cobblestone path to the home of Lorenzo Perrault, New Orleans' mayor. She stepped across the threshold unannounced, and smugly grinned when she noticed how his servants avoided her gaze as they gave her a wide berth. Even though she had existed for only half a century, already her reputation as a powerful voodoo priestess had been secured._

 _She easily found the hidden panel behind the gaudy gilt wallpaper in his drawing room. Pressing down, the door slid open, revealing a repulsive stench of sweat, human waste, and damp earth. Flicking her hand, the single wall sconce was lit to reveal half a dozen Choctaw children under the age of ten, chained to the stone floor. Soundlessly they stared at her wide-eyed, shivering from fear. She let out a strangled sob as she took in their bruised and bloodied bodies. She hurried to their chains, laying her trembling hands upon the iron collars, summoning her energy to break them open. Finally, the metal gave under her forceful spell, and the children shakily stood up, still eyeing her warily. "Let's get you out of here," she whispered, pointing toward the door._

 _While the children may not have understood her words, Caroline's open palm pointing toward their freedom sparked a small amount of hope in their hollow, dark eyes. However, before they could move, Lorenzo blocked the door, sneering. "Not so fast. Lady Caroline, abandoning the most important guest at the mayor's ball calls into question your manners, my gorgeous girl." He shook his head mockingly._

 _Caroline stood in front of the children, anger radiating from her body. "And your despicable hobby makes me question yours, Lorenzo."_

 _He stepped further into the room, grinning menacingly. "I told you while we were dancing to call me 'Enzo'." He frowned slightly. "Then you gripped my hand tightly, stared into my eyes without blinking, and then came up with the ridiculously transparent excuse that you were unwell." He gestured to the children still hiding behind her skirts. "Who told you my little secret?"_

 _"You did, you disgusting bastard," she said forcefully._

 _"Interesting," he mused. "I've encountered your kind before. You'll be punished for your crimes swiftly, my dear."_

 _With a shriek, she called forth Ayezan, channeling the power of the loa known as a protector of children. A surge of white-hot energy surged through her body and she pushed it toward Lorenzo's hulking frame. With an angry bellow, he was flattened against the wall, unable to struggle against the invisible force that held him down. Poetic justice, Caroline thought. She quickly gestured toward the children to run, wanting to dispatch their tormentor without them witnessing. They had endured enough trauma for several lifetimes._

 _Once the children were safely out of the way, she forced more energy through her body, demanding all of the loa's power to destroy Lorenzo so he could never harm another child again. Unfortunately, she had not anticipated the terrible drain on her body that performing such a spell would cause. Her blue eyes widened in horror as she witnessed Lorenzo begin to flex his fingers, his searing glare going through her. She felt the comforting energy flee her body, and she collapsed to the stone floor, fainting._

 _Caroline awoke to a stinging backhand to her cheek, Lorenzo's ostentatious ruby ring splitting open her soft skin like a ripened peach. She bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out in pain. From the visions she gathered during their brief interaction at the ball, his twisted soul thrived on others' misery. She would not display a weakness for him to exploit. Blinking her eyes, she saw that it was still nightfall and she was in the middle of Jackson Square once more. Her body was bound with ropes and as she struggled against the bonds, she realized in horror that she was fastened to a large wooden post. At her feet was a pile of logs and standing before her was Lorenzo, grinning maniacally and gripping a burning torch._

" _As I said before, my gorgeous girl, you'll be punished swiftly for your crimes." He bent at her feet, brushing the torch's flames against the logs before stepping back to admire his work._

 _She frantically gazed all around, searching for anyone that could help her. Unfortunately in the dead of night, Jackson Square was empty. In her righteous anger to punish Lorenzo for his heinous crimes and rescue the children, she had been too arrogant in her abilities to think of asking anyone else to help her. She was paying the ultimate price for that grievous mistake. The vengeful flames enrobed the dry wood, sending searing heat through her bare feet. As the emerald silk of her gown began melting onto her skin, she tried reaching into the spirit plane, desperate to summon even the smallest energy force to save herself. Between her paralyzing terror and her depleted body, she realized that for now she was an empty vessel and was unfit to harness the power needed to keep from burning._

 _Lorenzo never took his eyes from her face, a sick smile gracing his face. She squeezed her eyes shut in agony, coughing from the black smoke that now surrounded her. The horrific smell of cooking flesh invaded her senses, blocking out everything else except the ongoing torment of the fire. Once her golden curls were set ablaze, she could no longer withhold the screams. Caroline burned._

 _Later, she would be told that Lorenzo impaled her charred corpse onto the center spike of the city's gates. The next evening, her people came for her and performed the spells necessary to reawaken her spirit and reform her body. She savored the moment when she stood before a terrified Lorenzo, unblemished and once more imbued with power. She stared down at him without pity. "Oh Lorenzo," she said, "You'll be punished for your crimes. But I can promise you it won't be swift."_

"Miss Caroline," a sweetly innocent voice pleads, "Can you tell us a story?"

Caroline is jarred from her dark thoughts and stands up from her battered wooden desk to face the class of second graders crowded around several work tables, filling clay pots with earth. As the eager faces gazed up at her, she felt her heart give a little tweak of happiness. Her power had gifted her many boons over the years, but the greatest of all was her ability to offer help to those who needed it the most. The face she showed the general public, those separate from the supernatural world and its tiresome headaches, was one of educator. She taught gardening to elementary school students at Lorenzo Perrault Charter School. She inwardly grimaced at the name. The willful ignorance of the general public was baffling at times. Their favorite pastime appeared to be naming buildings after long-dead political figures whose private dealings were bleached clean in a seemingly limitless soup of denial and repressed memories.

She smiled brightly at the children. "Very well, but I expect you to start sweeping up all of that loose dirt — it's nearly time to go home." They grumbled good-naturedly as some grabbed brooms while the rest carefully set the planters on window ledges on both sides of the greenhouse classroom. She cast around in her memory for a story she could link back to her gardening lessons. "Has anyone heard the ancient myth of how the earth's seasons were created?"

They eagerly shook their heads and she began to weave her tale. "Long ago, the daughter of Demeter, goddess of the harvest, was picking wildflowers in a field. Her name was Persephone, and she possessed a rare beauty that caused everything around her to bloom and bask in the warm glow of her light. On this particular day, she managed to pick a particularly stubborn flower that was firmly rooted in the ground. As she pulled, the earth opened to reveal a large cavern. At that very moment, Hades, dark god of the underworld, was driving his chariot below the ground. He glanced up, and saw the innocent maiden and instantly fell in love. He pulled her onto his chariot and dragged her down into the underworld, intent upon making her his queen and keeping her with him for all eternity. During her imprisonment, Persephone ate four pomegranate seeds, and by eating the food of the dead, she sealed her fate and by the laws of nature, should have been bound to the underworld forever. However, Demeter appealed to the gods for her daughter's release. The gods refused her demands at first, and Demeter swore to never allow anything to grow ever again. Crops withered and a massive drought befell the earth. As the people suffered, the gods finally relented, and decreed that Persephone would be bound to the underworld for only fourth months per year, one month for every pomegranate seed she ate. Demeter accepted the compromise, but during the months Persephone is away from her, in her sorrow, the plants wither in the winter months, which are how the seasons were created."

Caroline had enchanted her class with the story and their eyes sparkled in wonder as they imagined the scenes she spun with her tale. The peaceful calm was broken instantly by an arrogant voice. "Wouldn't you say, sweetheart, that the moral of this story is to always be aware of your surroundings? After all, you never know who might be watching." Klaus was leaning casually against the open door of her classroom, his arms folded in front of him, making the fabric across his dark Henley stretch deliciously across his muscular chest.

The children looked at the newcomer in awe, clearly wondering who he was. Before the children could start peppering him with questions, Caroline briskly shut him down. "Actually, the true take away of this fable is to be respectful of a powerful woman. Your whole world may someday rest upon her generous nature." She broke the steady eye contact with him, and clapped her hands to capture the children's attention once more. "The bell is getting ready to ring, so everyone put your chairs onto the tables and line up at the door. Don't forget your backpacks."

She moved quickly to the front of the classroom and tugged on Klaus' hand, yanking him further into her classroom and purposely angling her body between the unpredictable hybrid and her children. Klaus allowed himself to be led, grinning in amusement at her obvious attempt to protect her young charges. She huffed in annoyance, and was getting ready to hiss out a colorful threat, but was interrupted.

"Miss Caroline?" A tiny girl with dozens of intricate braids patted Caroline's arm. "I made this for you," she shyly continued, looking down at the old tile floor.

Caroline completely forgot about Klaus as she stooped down to the girl's height and lovingly grasped the creased green construction paper. As she unfolded it, she smiled brightly at the pink and orange crayon squiggles. "It's perfect!" She delicately tapped the little girl's nose. "Just like you," she added.

The little girl nodded her head slightly. Still keeping her eyes on the floor, she mumbled, "I made it 'cause you like flowers and it's a garden, see?" She hesitantly poked a finger near the middle of the drawing, intent upon Caroline understanding the picture.

"It's the prettiest garden anyone has ever given me," Caroline declared. The bell rang and the rest of the students started filing out, shouting their good-byes. "Thank you for my picture," Caroline said. Wordlessly, the little girl pulled her into a fierce hug before running out of the classroom with her backpack dangling on one arm.

Silence filled the classroom, and Caroline spun around to face Klaus, unsure of his motive for seeking her out at the school. The look on his face was one of puzzlement, as though he had been given conflicting pieces of information and couldn't reconcile the data to his satisfaction. He noticed her sudden attention and shifted his weight to appear more at ease as he leaned against a window ledge. She absolutely refused to acknowledge how the afternoon sun backlit his dirty blonde curls, casting a radiant halo around his chiseled features. To distract herself from naughty thoughts she had zero time to indulge in, she inquired, "Well? Why are you bothering me at work?"

His full lips curled into a knowing smile. "Yes, your _work_. Imagine my surprise when I learned about your chosen vocation, love. Doesn't seem to fit with your other persona." He cocked his head to the side, studying her intently. "Tell me, how do you reconcile innocent Mary Sunshine, school teacher of the impoverished, provider of hope to lost little souls, with that of powerful voodoo priestess, manipulator of malevolent forces and purveyor of sinister magic?"

She sighed, exasperated. "Seriously? That's what you want to talk about? You have an ancient Viking aunt wanting to kidnap your miracle baby and likely bust her open like a piñata, but you want to role play career counselor instead?" Caroline ignored the slight tingle she felt when he raised a questioning eyebrow when she said "role play". She continued as though unaffected, crossing her arms in defiance. "Fine. I don't _have_ to reconcile anything. My life is not split in two; it's whole. I _am_ powerful, and I use that gift to help people who need it. _Especially_ the innocent. I harness the forces of voodoo loa to offer people who deserve it a better life. I teach gardening at Lorenzo Perrault Charter School to grade school kids from some of the worst neighborhoods in this city. I give these kids a brief escape from their lives where they know they have someone in their corner watching over them."

Klaus shook his head slightly, as though trying not to show how her impassioned speech affected him. "If you say so. I am curious, then — what benevolent reason dictated you rubbing your fresh, hot blood all over your delectable naked body last night, sweetheart?"

Caroline refused to acknowledge how his soft red tongue curled around his teeth as his lips formed around the phrases, 'delectable' and 'naked'. Nope, he was an evil, loathsome creature and she was in no way attracted to him or his man-necklaces-burning-with-the-hotness-of-a-thousand-suns. That was definitely not what was happening here.

She rolled her eyes and explained, "At the last school board meeting, they decided to cut funding to the free lunch program. Since 98% of the students that go here are on that program, I couldn't let that happen to my kids, so I performed a ritual to ensure additional funding appears." She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "I do what I have to when helping those who need it. I'd streak down Decatur Street, naked and dipped in mayonnaise, singing show tunes from _The Sound of Music_ if it meant I'd be helping someone in need."

"I can assure you that you would be helping me out tremendously if you performed that act. But perhaps you could be covered in chocolate or some sort of cream?" Klaus' gray eyes darkened with ill-concealed lust. "I'm not much for mayonnaise, but I do confess to having a bit of a sweet tooth, love."

"Yeah, that's so not happening." Caroline eyed him skeptically. "Did you have an actual reason for coming here, other than creeping me out with your pervy food-fetish innuendos?"

He stood up straighter, as though the seriousness of his original motivation for the visit demanded it. "Actually, yes. I recently have become aware of another sibling, another relative that I thought was long-dead. My sister, Freya, is apparently a powerful witch and was kidnapped and raised by my Aunt Dahlia. She has finally escaped her clutches and has sided with me and the rest of my siblings to destroy her and secure her freedom." His forehead furrowed and he clenched his fists in anger. "At least, that's the lines she's been feeding my more gullible siblings, so starved for affection they immediately take any street urchin's honeyed words as golden."

Caroline pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. "Putting aside your crippling trust issues, why are you suddenly acting like Perez Hilton and giving me all this insider information?"

He regarded her with a small smile. "Because Freya has convinced my siblings that she is their only hope at defeating Dahlia, and I want to level the playing field by introducing someone of my choosing to represent my interests and that of my child's."

Caroline processed Klaus' words, especially the ones that had remained unspoken. It was evident that he did not trust his newly introduced sister, Freya, but what was interesting is that he had inadvertently revealed that on some level, he trusted _her_. His lack of faith in his siblings' loyalty was alarming, but not unexpected given what she already knew about him before ever meeting him. "Let's get something straight. I am representing the interests of _your child_ and no one else. I have promised to protect that innocent baby. I am most certainly not _your_ anything." She tucked a curl behind her ear. "So it sounds like your plan is for me to do what, exactly? Challenge Freya to a spell-off and whoever cries 'Sabrina' first is declared the champion worthy of defeating Dahlia?"

He lightly chuckled. "Nothing quite so insidious, love. I just want to introduce you to Freya with the firm understanding that you are now part of the impending battle against Dahlia. I expect her to work with you just as willingly as she has been working with my other siblings. In addition, I would like for you to observe her and report anything out of the ordinary to me immediately."

Caroline arched an eyebrow. "Define _out of the ordinary_. I'm not getting my Austin Powers on unless you give me a good reason for being your little spy."

The twitching at the corner of his mouth and the deepening of his dimples made Caroline think he was perhaps a secret fan of the Austin Powers movies, and she tried to squash the tiny flutter of excitement she felt at discovering another layer to the complex and scary hybrid.

Klaus replied, "As I've already explained, I don't trust Freya's intentions, so I want someone around her that knows about magic and can pick up on any untoward behavior that may indicate her priorities lie elsewhere."

She was silent as she considered his proposal, studying the information from all sides to see if it was in her best interest to agree. While she was confident in her abilities, she preferred to not make an enemy of the Mikaelsons, especially now that she had landed squarely on their radar. She didn't know why she was stalling, though. With a child's life at risk, of course she would jump into the fray. "That sounds reasonable. I will let you know of anything that seems out of place regarding the magic I see Freya perform." She pointed a finger at him and said sternly, "However, I have no intention of being your little crony who spies on everyone around you including your siblings. Whatever Kardashian drama you and your siblings get up to is your mess to clean up — not mine."

Klaus shoved himself away from the window ledge. "Excellent. In that case, you will be joining me at the St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 tonight. You will be meeting Freya and can take her measure."

"See you then," she nodded. As he turned to walk out of her classroom, she eyed his beautifully sculpted Botticelli ass and couldn't help herself. With a sigh of aggravation at her poor impulse control, she flicked her wrist, and suddenly the hyssop stems uncurled out of the flower pot that Klaus walked by, and grabbed a meaty piece of his scrumptious behind.

With an uncharacteristic half-yelp, he turned and menacingly eyed the delicate blue flowers, still bunched around him. He glanced up at Caroline, slightly perplexed. "While a plant has never picked a fight with me, sweetheart, that doesn't mean I won't finish what it started."

She let out a giggle as she noticed how the strands of hyssop clung to his sides now, almost though trying to give him a hug. She wondered if he received many hugs, plant or otherwise. "Call it payback for last night's inappropriate groping." She flicked her wrist and the delicate strands slithered back to their home, the petals innocently resting in the clay pot once more.

Klaus smirked. "Perhaps Persephone didn't mind Hades' inappropriate groping. Maybe she ate those pomegranate seeds with more than just simple _hunger_ in mind, love." He flashed his dimples at her and sped out of the classroom before she could utter a weak counter-argument.

Aggravated at herself for letting her hormones get in the way, she swore she would do a better job deflecting his advances in the future. She straightened a few things in her classroom and finished entering her administrative reports concerning attendance and lesson plans and decided she was finished for the day. Before she grabbed her purse and headed out the door, she levitated her heavy wooden desk a couple of feet to the side.

Placing her palm on the tile floor, she chanted briefly, and the air shimmered, revealing a rusty metal ring attached to a trap door. She pulled it open and headed down the creaking stairs. At the end of a long hall, she entered the room protected by her magic and gazed at the figure within. He was chained to the stone floor, his body covered in endless flames. Her face was expressionless as she looked into his eyes, watching his mouth open in horrific screams rendered silent by her spells.

Before leaving the room, she reminded him, "My dear Lorenzo, I keep my promises. As I said before, you'll be punished for your crimes. But it won't be swift."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Author's Note: This story takes place prior to Dahlia arriving in New Orleans but after Freya has been introduced. Everyone mentioned in this chapter will have backgrounds that differ from canon with the exception of Davina.

"And then I made the plant grab his ass as he was leaving!" Caroline giggled, enjoying the barks of laughter from her friends, Bonnie and Davina.

Bonnie snorted inelegantly. "He's lucky that's all it grabbed. Remember Tyler Lockwood? You had only known me a couple of weeks, but when you heard that I'd caught him cheating, you stopped him outside a florist's shop on Royal Street and had the honeysuckle grab him and start twisting. Rumor has it that even today, if he's not aiming carefully, pee still goes right up his nose!"

Laughing hysterically, they nearly fell off of the pink and white bar stools in Bonnie's bakery, the _Underrated Sidekick_. As they devoured Bonnie's latest delectable creation, cayenne-dark-chocolate-chunk brownies, Caroline observed Davina's haunted eyes. It had been a couple of months since her boyfriend, Kohl Mikaelson, had died, and Davina was so consumed by grief that Caroline feared that the defiant, fun-loving teenager she had come to care for so deeply would never be the same. Kohl was Klaus' younger brother, and while Caroline had never met him, Davina had talked non-stop about him whenever she came to Caroline's house for training.

For nearly a year, Caroline had been mentoring Davina in magic, teaching her how to control her powers while respecting natural laws. They had formed a close friendship, and Caroline viewed her as a little sister. There wasn't anything she wouldn't do for that girl. _Except the one thing she asked of you_ , Caroline thought grimly.

 _The banging on her door had awakened Caroline. She marched downstairs to tell whoever was trying to break down her door that powerful voodoo mojo worked best when the voodoo priestess' sex dreams weren't rudely interrupted. Chris Hemsworth had just given her a mind-blowing orgasm involving his skillful tongue, nose and her TV remote, all while whispering in her ear how he would take out the garbage and mow the yard right after they were done. Dream Thor had serious game._

 _She opened the door to reveal a sobbing Davina who immediately fell at her feet shrieking, "You have to save him!" She shook her head, moaning pitifully. "He didn't deserve any of this!"_

 _Caroline pulled the trembling girl into a warm hug and had her sit down and tell her what had happened. She revealed that Kol, who had been planted in a human witch's body by his mother, had apparently outlived his usefulness, and his mother had spelled his human host's body to deteriorate. Kol had died an agonizing death in Davina's arms that night._

 _Caroline's heart ached for the girl, especially when she said, "I held him as he died and swore I'd help him. I'm a powerful witch and I should have been able to save him!" A fresh wave of tears washed her pale cheeks and she said dejectedly, "But it wasn't enough._ I _wasn't enough." She rubbed her face tiredly. "So I just kept holding him, and I wished for a miracle, anything that would somehow keep him here with me where he belongs." She hiccupped once, the sobs catching in her throat. "I squeezed him as tight as I could, hoping that my soul could touch his and he'd hang on to me." She cried, "But it didn't work and he died and I couldn't do anything!" She wailed, her pain nearly breaking Caroline in two as she asked, "Why couldn't he stay?"_

 _Caroline hugged Davina to her, rocking gently as she tried to soothe her. "Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry." She stroked her long dark hair gently, "I'm right beside you and we're going to get through this together."_

 _Davina sat up suddenly, her tears almost stopping in their tracks. Her dark eyes were wild as she told her, "But that's why I'm here. You're going to help me."_

 _Caroline's heart plummeted. "Davina," she began cautiously._

 _"No!" Davina shrieked, gripping Caroline's arm tight enough her nails broke the skin. "You do not get to tell me 'no'! You swore you would help me; that you would protect me!"_

 _Caroline wiped a stray tear that had made its way unnoticed down to her neck. "I_ am _protecting you. You just aren't ready to see that yet. Kol wasn't in his body when he died. Without his body, I don't have a vessel to call him forth." She tried hugging Davina once more, but she was already scrambling to her feet. Caroline tried once more to explain. "As much as it hurts me to see you in pain, dear Davina, I cannot bring him back without his original body. And you told me that it had been turned to ashes and never recovered."_

 _The girl stood over Caroline, defiant. "Kol's mother brought him back in another body. Do that instead."_

 _"No," Caroline said harshly. "I do not steal bodies. It violates natural law. You know this — Are you to abandon everything I taught you?"_

 _"With my dying breath if it brings him back," Davina swore, marching toward the door._

 _"Davina, wait!" Caroline shouted._

 _"No! You said you can't help me; I will have to help myself," she said firmly, her jaw set in determination._

 _It was nearly a month before Davina had come back to Caroline's house, quietly asking her forgiveness. They had picked up where they left off with her training, but Caroline worried that their bond may never fully recover._

A sharp poke in the shoulder got her attention. "Hey, are you ok," Bonnie asked, her green eyes filled with worry. "Are you concerned about tonight's meeting with the vitch? Because I can tag along if you want me to."

"No, Bon, I've got this," Caroline reassured her, but then asked, "What's a vitch?"

Bonnie laughed. "You know, Freya. She's a Viking and a witch." She patted her arm, and mockingly said, "Try to keep up, Grandma."

"You did _not_ just make an old fart joke, Miss-I'm-only-29-but-started-botoxing-my-forehead-as-though-no-one notices-I-haven't-made-a-human-expression-since-February."

Bonnie looked astonished and embarrassed. "I didn't think anyone could tell," she mumbled. "And I don't do it all the time; just when it seems like things could be tighter," she said defensively.

Caroline nodded sagely. "Sure. Now tell me how you can stop anytime you want."

Davina suddenly asked, "Doesn't botoxing your face violate your vegetarian rules, Bonnie?"

"No, it's bacteria. Well, it's more like a toxin produced by bacteria." Bonnie clarified.

"That _definitely_ sounds like something I would want injected into my face." Caroline giggled and quickly ducked as Bonnie threw her remaining uneaten brownie in her direction.

Davina grinned, "But what about animal testing? They probably poked a bunch of fluffy bunnies with needles before they released it to the public."

Bonnie suddenly looked horrified and a little ill. "Crap. I didn't think of that. "Do you think you could do a spell and suck it all out?"

Davina winked at Caroline. "Sure, but it would likely have to exit from where it entered, isn't that one of the natural laws, Caroline? 'That which enters must leave whence it came?'"

"I think that's one of the sacred laws of drinking, Davina, not voodoo," Caroline answered dryly. "Face it, Bon, you're screwed. Might as well scarf down a plate of ribs at this point." She laughed as Bonnie scrunched her nose up in disgust. She hopped off of the bar stool and waved cheerily to the girls. "I'm heading home to change before the meet and greet with the vitch."

"As first dates go, the cemetery is actually not the weirdest place you've gone," Bonnie said thoughtfully. "Remember how Matt took you to that icky dungeon the sad goths go to because he'd found out about your voodoo powers and wanted to prove to you how he could _relate_ _to your darkness_?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," Caroline grimaced, recalling black rubber latex that didn't adequately cover the doughy flesh of some of the participants, and an overeager boyfriend that was so desperate to prove how compatible they were he didn't stop to consider that she had been with him because of his sweet, innocent nature. She sadly came to the realization that once he discovered her powerful nature, he became obsessed with proving his strength. He was intimidated by what she was and she couldn't watch it destroy him. She had ended things with him when he started seeking out danger to in a misguided attempt to prove himself. He had picked a fight with some of Marcel's vampires at Rousseau's, but fortunately Marcel had been present and recognized him. He had delivered an unconscious, black-eyed Matt to Caroline's doorstep, and Caroline made a tough decision. When Matt woke up on her couch, she asked Marcel to compel him to forget that he ever knew her. The only way that she knew Matt would be safe was if he was out of her life. Since then, she had been more cautious with her liaisons, especially with humans.

Caroline impatiently jerked her head, not wanting to dwell on that unpleasantness. She recalled what Bonnie had said teasingly. "And this is not a date!"

"Then why are you changing your clothes first," Davina asked coyly.

Caroline marched out of the bakery without another word, ignoring the butterflies that suddenly appeared as she thought of her upcoming rendezvous. As though summoned by her thoughts, her phone sang a few bars of "Voodoo Child" before alerting her to a text from an unknown number: "Join me for a pre-cemetery meeting drink, sweetheart?"

Unbelievable. He threatened her during their first meeting and now he wants a date? She wondered if he was like this with all the girls, or perhaps her voodoo juice was what got a rise out of him. So to speak. Whatever. She had zero interest in pain weirdos. Scoffing, she quickly texted back, "Are you such a man-whore you're asking out your enemies now? Playing with your food is a nasty habit."

Klaus' saucy reply had her blushing like a silly little virgin: "Playing with my food is only one of my numerous nasty habits I'd very much like to introduce you to, love."

As Caroline racked her brain trying to come up with a firm but witty go-fuck-yourself response, her phone was accosted by another text: "And that's a lovely shade of red creeping up your neck."

Caroline gasped and quickly scanned the street looking for the psychotic asshat. Her phone signaled another text that cheekily demanded, "Look up." She craned her neck and spied her smug hybrid stalker casually sipping a drink on the balcony of a bar across the street from her. He tipped his glass in a mocking salute to her when he noticed her staring. Aggravated, she began marching across the street, intent upon telling him that stalking her would result in him gaining a shrunken head. Two of them, if he continued smirking at her every two seconds.

A small, scared voice startled her. "Miss Caroline?"

Caroline whipped her head around and was surprised to see Lavetta, the little girl who drew the garden picture for her today, huddled on the doorstep of a boarded up storefront. Her aggravation with Klaus forgotten, she quickly ran back to the trembling girl and asked gently, "Lavetta, what are you doing out here in the dark?" She held out her hand to pull the girl to her feet. "Come on, I'm going to take you home."

"No!" The girl forcefully shook her head. "Mama sent me outta the house 'cause the ice cream man was gonna visit."

Confused, Caroline sat next to Lavetta and asked, "Who is the ice cream man?"

Lavetta balled up her fists and stared at her knees. "Mama's special friend. He's been visitin' lots more now and today he grabbed my arm and said I was jus' about ready."

Horrified, Caroline squeezed the girl's balled-up fist. "And then what happened," she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

Lavetta shrugged and furiously wiped away a stray tear with her other fist. "I ran outta the house. If I wait awhile, I can go home. Mama always smiles at me and hugs me after the ice cream man visits." She shrugs, "He makes her happy."

Caroline's heart was pounding and she debated on the best course of action. Reaching a decision, she turned to the little girl and said brightly, "How would you like to stay with me and my best friend Bonnie tonight? She owns a bakery and she'll let us eat all the dessert we want."

Lavetta's eyes grew big. She asked cautiously, "Will the ice cream man come visit?"

"No," Caroline said firmly. "Me and my friends are not friends with the ice cream man. In fact, I promise you, he won't be visiting you or your mama anymore."

Lavetta was concerned. "But Mama likes when he visits. She'll be so mad that I told!"

Caroline soothed her cries, hugging her. "Your mama is going to change her mind. In fact, when Bonnie and I drop you off at your house tomorrow, I bet your mama will have forgotten all about the ice cream man."

The little girl looked up from Caroline's shoulder, and tearfully asked, "Promise?"

Caroline couldn't help how her voice broke just a bit as she replied, "Promise. Now, let's go see Bonnie at her bakery." She held Lavetta's hand as they crossed the street and headed back toward the bakery. As they walked, Caroline couldn't help but think back to another time when she had been powerless and a stranger's kindness saved her in ways she never thought possible.

 _Andrew Jackson had declared martial law in New Orleans, demanding that all able-bodied men join the battle. Caroline's father refused to leave his pregnant wife and young daughter. In the middle of the night, just before the troops had broken down the door to their sharecropper's one-room cabin, Caroline's mother had pulled open a loose floorboard and shoved the scrawny fourteen-year-old through it. Caroline's bare feet hit the dirt floor of the narrow crawlspace and she huddled there quietly as she heard the screams of her parents as shots rang out. Her hands went over her mouth, stifling the strangled cry that wanted to escape. She could hear the heavy boots clomping just above her head, sending dust from the warped floorboards onto her sweaty skin._

 _She curled into a ball, not moving, barely daring to breathe as she waited for the forceful arms of a stranger to rip open the floor and grab her. Shock had taken root in her heart and she didn't even tremble when the sticky wetness dripped down onto her bare shoulder. She remained perfectly still as the steady stream continued to bathe her shoulder and arm. To this day, she still didn't know which of her parents' blood she was wearing. She hoped that it was both. She wanted to believe that she carried a piece of her entire family as she fled the only home she had ever known when Jackson's troops set the cabin on fire to hide their crimes._

 _Aided by the darkness, she crawled out from underneath the burning cabin and ran into the swamp where she quickly became lost. She didn't know how long she wandered, terrified of the distant sounds of the soldiers and the hidden creatures she could hear moving through the swamp. She finally came to a clearing, and as she stumbled out into the open, she was frightened to see so many unfamiliar faces gazing at her with obvious interest. A tall bonfire was burning with a fierceness that instantly reminded Caroline of the spiteful flames that engulfed her home. She had glanced back over her shoulder, just once, as she had fled from the bloodthirsty soldiers, and the sight of the small cabin being ravaged by the fire had torn her heart in two._

 _She whimpered at the memory and recoiled when a tall woman with beautiful cocoa skin approached her slowly. "I've been waiting for you, little one." Her calm voice resonated with a power that soothed Caroline's trembling body and made her feel safe. "You can call me 'Abby', Caroline." She gently tugged on Caroline's hand, opening her palm to the night sky. "You have a great destiny before you, child."_

 _Her fears suddenly vanished, and Caroline whispered in wonder, "I do?"_

 _Abby had chuckled and replied, "You do. And I'm here to help you achieve it."_

 _From that day forward, Abby, a powerful voodoo priestess and a former West African slave, had adopted Caroline and taught her the ways of her ancestors. Caroline had thrived under Abby's selfless guidance and embraced a destiny she had never imagined could be hers._

Caroline was brought back from her thoughts when _Underrated Sidekick_ came into view. She pictured Bonnie's warm smile and recalled how she had first met her back when Bonnie was a fresh-faced 18, recently discovering she was a witch and desperate to track down her New Orleans relatives and learn more about her ancestral roots. Caroline had been witness to the emotional meeting when Abby had looked up from the herbal tea she had been blending and said, "Bonnie, I'm so pleased to finally meet you. You are most welcome here." She had enthusiastically hugged a very confused Bonnie and explained how she was an ancestor and the spirits had gifted her with a vision that foretold Bonnie's arrival.

 _But Abby's special gift hadn't allowed her to see how short her time with Bonnie would be_ , Caroline thought bitterly. She shook her head, unwilling to think of Abby's passing and how much it still hurt. She had a sacred duty to protect those in need and right now, Lavetta needed her help. Smiling down at Lavetta, she opened the door and Bonnie greeted her with a smile that only wavered slightly when she sensed Caroline's distress.

Nodding grimly, Caroline explained, "Bonnie, this is Lavetta and she came to me with a problem that we're going to help her solve."

Bonnie came around the counter and kneeled beside Lavetta. "I'm Bonnie. I just made a caramel apple pie. Would you like to help me eat it?"

Lavetta nodded eagerly, already charmed by Bonnie's peaceful nature. "How did you know that apple is my favorite?"

Bonnie winked at her, helping her onto one of the pink and white barstools. "Lucky guess."

She glanced at Caroline and kept her tone light, "What would you like me to pick up for dinner? Would you like something from the place on Decatur or do you need something a bit stronger?"

Caroline thought quickly. "Just get the usual down on St. Ann. But could you have Josh pick it up and deliver it with one of my favorite friends?"

Bonnie shook her head, laughing. "Josh _hates_ those friends."

Caroline whispered, "Then next time he should give me a heads up when Marcel decides to divulge my name to a sociopathic asshat." She shrugs her shoulders, "Besides, you know he's just going to ask Davina on her way home to help him escort that friend."

Lavetta kept eating her pie, blissfully unaware of the conversation around her. Caroline gently patted her arm. "Lavetta, I have a meeting I need to go to, but Bonnie is taking you back to my house and she's going to make you the best gumbo you've ever tasted. Okay?"

The little girl nodded in agreement, already attacking her pie again. Caroline whispered to Bonnie, "It will be fine. After my meeting with asshat and vitch, I'll do the usual ritual and meet you guys at my place. Save me some gumbo." As an afterthought, she added, "And don't mention ice cream." Shuddering slightly, she headed out of the bakery and toward the cemetery.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Warning: Your infinite patience has been rewarded — freaky, mature sexual content — finally!

Author's note: In this narrative, we'll be loosely following canon backstory for Rebekah and Elijah.

As Caroline reaches the gates of St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, she received a text from Bonnie: "Package delivered to usual place. Josh bitten twice. Davina laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more." Smiling, Caroline pushed open the rusty metal and stepped into the peaceful cemetery. She roamed the narrow rows of tombs, admiring the beautiful rosaries draped over the chipped statues. While a sense of calm tried to wash over her as she took in the quiet surroundings, her body remained tense. The air was positively buzzing with anticipation and she could sense something was coming. Unfortunately, she was unable to read the nature of that _something_ , and therefore remained alert just in case.

In addition, she was saddened to note Davina's magical signature wafting through the breeze. The wayward teenager had clearly been clocking some serious hours in this cemetery and probably the others as well. Caroline grimaced as she immediately understood Davina's reasons. Despite the fact that Caroline had shut her down, the stubborn girl was still trying to resurrect Kol. Caroline was immediately concerned — what sort of dark magic had she been dabbling in? She wasn't strong enough to handle that kind of power and certainly wasn't mature enough to understand the moral ambiguities she would drown in if she didn't stop her dangerous pursuit.

Sighing, Caroline realized she needed to have another talk with Davina. Normally, she didn't like to hover over the teenager. She could understand a girl's need for secrets. Also, the devastating loss that Davina had experienced was something that would take time to heal. In the meantime, it was Caroline's responsibility to look out for the girl and make sure she didn't get in over her head. She considered catching a few episodes of _Intervention_ before her sit-down with Davina. If only A &E did a supernatural version.

"Let's hope tardiness is the extent of your incompetence," a cold female voice called out in the dark. "However, judging by the vapid expression and bleached hair, it seems doubtful."

Caroline scoffed, whirling around to see a mousy brunette standing near Klaus who was wearing his signature smirk. She cocked an eyebrow at the girl and firmly stated, "True power doesn't feel the need to prove itself. It just _is_." She had the urge to dig in her claws just a bit; therefore, she added, "However, I'd be happy to show you proof I'm a natural blonde."

"How charmingly crass." A statuesque young black woman joined the group along with a handsome man wearing the hell out of impeccably tailored Hugo Boss.

Klaus chuckled at everyone's obvious discomfort. "I can attest that Caroline speaks the truth." His frank appraisal of her form was both chilling in its intensity as it was oddly thrilling.

Rolling her eyes, Caroline held out her hand to the black woman. "I'm Caroline." She let go of her hand almost as soon as she touched it. Frowning, she stared into the woman's inquisitive chocolate brown eyes. "You're not in your correct body." With a glare, she added, "Who are you?"

"Rebekah Mikaelson, and believe me, it was not by choice that I'm stuck in here. It's all thanks to my mother's insanity." She huffed, annoyed.

Caroline wanted to know more, especially since body stealing was a violation of the natural laws, but she sensed a dark presence within that shell. Whomever the witch had been prior to Rebekah inhabiting her had been a threat to those around her. Caroline quietly decided to keep an eye on the situation and would intervene if it proved necessary.

"That's a remarkable gift you have, Caroline," the gentleman next to Rebekah praised. He grasped her hand. "Elijah Mikaelson. Please allow me to express my family's gratitude in your agreement to align yourself with us during these uncertain times."

The woman who had rudely announced her presence interrupted once more. "Are we here to exchange bland pleasantries, or are we going to discuss more important matters?" She crossed her arms in front of her.

Mockingly, Klaus said, "Your impatience and blatant disregard for manners does lend credibility to your claims of being a Mikaelson, Freya." He politely nodded at Caroline. "Caroline, this is Freya, my long-lost sister and self-proclaimed savior of us all."

"Charmed," Caroline stated dryly. "So what important matters do you want to start with first, Freya? The fact that your hostility and obvious distrust toward me will cause any spells we create to inevitably fail?" She was unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice as she continued, "As someone of your obvious _maturity_ knows, magic works best when it's created from a place of harmonious intentions and absolute trust."

Freya gave an almost inhuman growl of anger. "You foul, loathsome peasant dare speak to me as though we are equals? How dare you!"

"That's loathsome sharecropper's daughter. And foul are those mom jeans you're wearing," Caroline responded, shuddered slightly at the horrific sight of high-waisted denim with pleats. Pleats, for God's sake! Caroline firmly believed that pleated pants had been invented to finish the job that the bustle failed to complete by destroying all traces of feminine dignity.

Rebekah snorted, and Caroline found herself wondering if perhaps she wasn't as on board with the long-lost sibling as Klaus had assumed. She filed that little observation away for safekeeping. One could never have too many allies.

Elijah tried to be the voice of reason: "Now ladies, let's calm down and focus on the problem at hand," he began.

"I _am_ focusing on the problem at hand," Freya said, gritting her teeth as she glared at Caroline.

Caroline watched, confused as Freya furrowed her brow, focusing on her. Finally, Caroline threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "I give up — are you trying to give me a witchy migraine or are you just really, really constipated?" She couldn't help but smile at the outrage on Freya's face. "Because I understand that at your age, the plumbing probably doesn't work like it used to and things can get a bit plugged up."

Klaus let out a bark of laughter. "You amuse me, love." He turned toward Freya and said sharply, "That's enough, dear sister. Wouldn't want to tire yourself out, now, would we" he asked mockingly.

Freya opened her mouth to argue, but Caroline's patience had run out. With a flick of her wrist, Freya's lips snapped shut, much to her obvious amazement. Caroline tried not to delight in the small amount of fear that she saw in Freya's eyes. She was not really hurting her; she just needed to put her in a time out so the grownups could carry on with their meeting. "That's enough of that. Let's quickly discuss the main points; I've got another engagement I need to get to before much longer." Sighing, Caroline glanced at Rebekah and Elijah, who were watching her with a wary respect, and Klaus, whose gray eyes had widened slightly before returning to their usual smolder.

Elijah straightened his suit jacket and spoke, "While we haven't had any actual sightings of Dahlia, we're hearing reports of violent storms appearing out of nowhere and disappearing just as suddenly. We believe she's gathering her strength and is preparing to attack."

Rebekah added, "At this point, we've had witches spell multiple safe houses in the area and Hope has been staying at each house in random sequences to avoid detection."

"The hybrids are scouring New Orleans and the surrounding areas but have been unable to locate Dahlia." Klaus folded his arms. "That's where you can start, love. I want you to create a locator spell that my hybrids can use to pinpoint Dahlia."

Caroline was quiet as she considered the information. "It will require me to work with Freya to come up with a useful spell. Her knowledge of Dahlia is key." She stared at Freya and removed her temporary blocking curse. "Are you willing to work with me," she asked.

Grudgingly, Freya nodded. "For the child, I will."

"Good." Caroline clapped her hands together. "I also have some thoughts on the protection spells for your safe houses, but I'll need to consult with my people first." She nodded at the assembled group. "I can meet Freya at your home tomorrow evening to get started on the spell." She noticed the slight relaxing of tense muscles and faces becoming more open. The siblings were clearly afraid of Dahlia and Caroline's willingness to help had set their minds at ease somewhat. Her tone softened, "I promise to do everything within my power to save the baby and stop Dahlia."

The meeting adjourned and everyone went their separate ways. Caroline quickly marched over to the middle of the cemetery, muttering when she realized she had picked up an irritating shadow with dimples. She stopped in front of a large clay urn and stood on her tip toes to pull out the green canvas bag Josh and Davina had delivered for her earlier. She set the bag down on top of a marble-topped tomb. It was a ready-made altar not only because it was waist-height, but also because it belonged to Mama Riza, a powerful voodoo queen in her day. Caroline could draw from her energy to complete the ritual she needed to perform.

Without bothering to look at the impertinent hybrid standing behind her, she said, "In case my walking away without bothering to make eye contact with you wasn't clear, your company is neither appreciated nor desired." She opened the drawstring and carefully set down a stone mortar and pestle, a sheaf of Blackbeard wheat, anise seeds, an egg, and a corner torn from the drawing Lavetta had given her. She waved a hand behind her and said insistently, "Go on now, shoo!"

Klaus wryly said, "I must admit, love, I am curious about this mysterious event you have planned." He chuckled at her stubborn refusal to look at him while she began preparing the ingredients. "Who, pray tell are you cursing? Possibly Freya?"

Caroline snorted as she dug her hand back inside the rough canvas bag. "Please," she said derisively. "I've dealt with far colder greetings than the one she just subjected me to." She pulled back her arm, bringing with it a three-foot-long canebrake rattler. It coiled around her ivory arm, the moonlight turning its beige scales pearlescent and its dark brown crossbands rippled as it clenched its muscles around her. She softly stroked its head and slowly tilted her arm to allow it to slither onto the altar. She finally turned to look at Klaus and her breath caught by his close proximity.

Klaus observed, "Impressive. One of the perks of an immortal life is being immune to venom, I suppose."

Caroline shrugged, trying not to appear affected by how his dimples seemed to come out to play just for her during conversations with the hybrid. "I imagine it would still hurt. Although it's been ages since I was bitten." She realized she was wasting precious spell-casting time, so she quickly turned her back to Klaus and finished prepping her ingredients. Dismissively, she explained, "If you must know, one of my students told me tonight about getting kicked out of her house whenever her mother wants to go on a bender. It also was implied that the drug dealer is moonlighting as a pimp, or, at the very least, is a pedophile." She couldn't keep the anger out of her voice as she gestured to the altar, "That shit stops _now_."

Before Caroline could blink, Klaus suddenly appeared between her and the altar. He gripped her arms and said seriously, "I know. Which is why I took care of it."

"I — what? I don't understand," she shook her head, confused.

His steel gray eyes softened. "You forget — I was across the street and overheard your conversation. I found out where the girl lived and paid a visit to her mother. I compelled the addiction away." A tell-tale smirk graced his handsome face. "Much to my delight, the so-called 'ice cream man' appeared at her doorstep as I was leaving. Did you know that the mouth on a human head will keep moving for several minutes even after it's severed from the rest of its body?"

A hundred different emotions seemed to surge through Caroline as she processed Klaus' revelation. He had taken it upon himself to help out a little girl and her mother, powerless individuals who had nothing to offer him in the way of compensation, power or other incentive to warrant his generosity. She tried not to dwell too much on the sense of satisfaction she felt when Klaus revealed he had beheaded the man that posed a threat to Lavetta and her mother. She had intended to track him down and send that disgusting human to the powerful loa Ayezan, who specialized in punishing adults who take advantage of the young. Klaus had streamlined the process for her. Bewildered, she asked, "Why would you do that? You don't know these people. You certainly aren't known for random acts of kindness."

Klaus chuckled, slowly sliding his warm hands up and down her bare arms. "No, it's not in my nature to do such things." He paused, frowning slightly. "However, since meeting you, I've found myself wishing I was better. To be better for you. The extraordinary compassion you offer to others is unlike anything I've ever experienced. You've captured something within me and refuse to let it go." He tilted his head, studying her closely. "And I don't want you to."

Caroline felt the blood pounding in her ears and her thoughts became broken and nearly incoherent. Klaus had done this for her. He had displayed rare mercy and visited his terrible wrath in equal measures upon the deserving individuals. And it was all for her. Because he cared about the things that she cared about. For far too long, she had existed in this selfish world and had encountered very few men who could touch her soul with a single look, and could deliver beyond the promise of a few pretty words. She felt a tingling down in her bones, and knew that Klaus could be that man.

Without hesitation, she grabbed the edges of his leather jacket and pushed him onto the marble-topped tomb. Kissing him fiercely, she quickly stripped off his jacket and ripped the gray-striped Henley over his head. He eagerly kissed her back, clearly taken by surprise not only by her actions but also by her dominant touches. He lost control of his wolf and his nails became claws as they shredded the back of her tank top in his haste to pull her body closer to his.

The useless white cotton shreds fell to the ground in a whisper. Caroline threw back her head as she allowed her hands to roam over the soft skin of her belly and moved toward her breasts. Her blue eyes darkened with desire as she stared Klaus in the eye and cupped her full breasts, plucking them from her lacey bra. She relished in the helpless grunt that came from him as she moved her supple flesh in seductive circles.

His gray eyes flashed gold as he ripped away her bra before gripping her arms once more, impatiently trying to slide her body on top of him. "No," she growled, pushing one hand firmly against his sculpted chest as she made him sit back on the edge of the tomb. "First, you're mine." His eyes narrowed to golden slits as she flicked her wrist and his belt snapped in two.

She slowly sank to her knees before him, sliding her strong hands smoothly over his dark jeans, kneading the flesh of his firm thighs. Her nimble fingers plucked his button free and the sound of his zipper being pulled down was the sweetest, most agonizing sound in the world. Caroline lowered his jeans barely a few inches before being eagerly met by his engorged flesh.

As she caressed the moist tip with her warm tongue, he groaned lowly, "Fuck, yes." She delicately licked the sides, placing butterfly kisses that burned a path straight to his core. "Just like that," he whispered brokenly. She continued her assault, pausing to lick her lips as stray drops made their way to his surface.

She glanced up to see Klaus' fists clenched, and he began moving his hips in smooth circles, brushing his erection back and forth across her lips. She needed to make him scream with the primal lust she felt, to make him revel in the fact that she possessed him, that he was hers. She called forth the snake and it lazily began its steady climb across his firm stomach, uncoiling its length in a seductive display of glittering scales and a sinister flick of its rattle.

Before Klaus could process the foreign sensation, she quickly bent her head and took him completely in her mouth. Her lips touched his base and she began sucking with a delicious pressure he felt down to his toes. The canebrake rattler continued its ascent, brushing its cool skin against his sweat, clearly drawn to the warmth of his trembling body. Caroline cupped the delicate skin of his balls, feeling how they were clenched, and she bobbed her head faster, moaning as she heard Klaus' strangled shout. The snake slipped its fangs into the skin of Klaus' chest just as he came, spilling into Caroline's mouth with a loud scream, "Fuck, right there!"

Before she realized what was happening, Klaus had lifted her off of the ground and had thrown her on top of the hard tomb, scattering the ritual ingredients to the shadows. "Now we fuck my way," he growled, tearing off her jeans and plunging his wet tongue deep within her. He gripped her shaking thighs and spread them further apart, eagerly pushing his face to her warm center. He lapped at her sugary essence, swirling a finger inside and tracing it across her pink lips. She swiped her tongue across the sticky sweetness, pulling his finger in her mouth and suckled while Klaus continued to feast on her dripping core. She could feel the desire coiling deep within her belly and her orgasm ripped through her when he firmly bit down on her clit.

"You like that, don't you, love? Make your pussy work for me," Klaus silkily commanded. She met his gaze steadily and wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him to her.

"Use your cock and work it yourself," Caroline retorted breathlessly.

With a smirk, Klaus stroked his stiff penis several times before ramming it into her. Caroline shouted incoherently as she savored how deeply he was reaching inside of her, driving her into the cool marble surface. The rattlesnake had detached itself from Klaus sometime before they changed positions and now it was making its way across the tomb toward Caroline's shaking body. As Klaus continued his furious thrusts, Caroline saw the snake slide its wide head between her breasts, flicking its tongue to taste her ivory skin. She closed her eyes at the feeling, lost in the powerful desire that Klaus called from within.

Klaus tweaked her clit sharply, and she came again with a grateful sob, relaxing her thighs as Klaus filled her soft folds with his arousal.

Panting, he laid down next to her. Wordlessly, he reached for her hand and together they stared at the twinkling stars above them, the night sky their blanket.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Vampire Diaries_ or _The Originals_.

Warning: Delightful graphic smut ahead!

Author's Note: This work takes place in an alternate universe. At times, canon will be disregarded for the sake of my plot. Thank you all for your support of my work; your reviews make my day!

"You can't expect to yield favorable results if you continue mindlessly thrusting." Freya glared at Caroline.

Caroline snorted derisively. "I can assure you I've never had any complaints about my thrusting." She continued stabbing the air with the ceremonial dagger, trying to call forth energies needed to compose the locator spell — and the patience not to ram the dagger up Freya's scrawny ass in the hopes of dislodging whatever stick was in there holding court.

Freya continued shredding red clover and haughtily said, "Your vulgarity is appalling. However, I suppose it is to be expected given your unfortunate initiation into such a _coarse_ belief system."

Caroline threw her knife so hard it buried itself into the oak table mere centimeters away from Freya's bony fingers. "You did _not_ just insult my faith." Furious, she flung her arm outward, sending Freya's thin body across the room where her head connected with the plaster wall with a satisfying smack. Blue eyes blazing, she pointed a threatening finger and commanded, "The well of my spiritual energy is a power that demands respect. It has saved my life in ways you cannot begin to comprehend. Learn your place before I put you in it, witch."

Laughing, Freya's dark eyes blazed as she strained against Caroline's powerful magical hold. "Yes, brandishing rooster feathers and worshipping demons of the pit warrants such prestige."

"Are we really going to have a my-horse-is-better-than-your-horse religious throw down right now? Because seriously, we all want Chris Hemsworth to wear us out with Thor's hammer but other than that, I'm not really seeing how Team Viking trumps my mojo." Caroline briefly reveled in her well-placed barb, but then sighed, realizing that she was no better than Freya by attacking her opponent's spirituality.

She released Freya and went back to the parchment unfurled on the table, trying to pinpoint why her knife-wielding hadn't created the correct energy. She stubbornly refused to admit to Freya that she may need her guidance.

"My apologies. It was inappropriate of me to speak ill of your ways," Freya mumbled lowly.

Caroline's eyes widened and she glanced at the petite brunette, trying to gauge her sincerity. She replied softly, "I shouldn't have attacked you. We're supposed to be working together. We should focus on how we can help Hope."

"Yes, the child is what matters," Freya agreed.

They bowed their heads to consult the magical texts again and try another combination that could finally work to their advantage.

Klaus' voice dripped with sarcasm, "If only all religious intolerance could be resolved so quickly."

Caroline's breath caught as she stared at Klaus cockily leaning against the doorframe. He truly was insufferable, displaying an effortless grace that whispered power and unbridled sexuality. She could feel her cheeks flaming as she recalled their unexpected tryst in the graveyard. He had been magnificent and if the heat in his gray eyes was any indication, he also was recalling the explicit details. "Caroline, love, I'm pleased to see you looking so _relaxed_ today. Did you find a way to _relieve_ your tension?"

Freya glanced at Caroline, confused by Klaus' comments. Caroline shrugged in return and told her, "I find his subterfuge perplexing as well." She cocked an eyebrow at Klaus and asked, "I'm curious, is it the graveyard sex or the quasi-threesome with the rattlesnake that's making you act like an immature frat boy?"

Freya closed her eyes, grimacing. "I'll excuse myself to retrieve some additional grimoires for us to review. Perhaps you could finish mixing the ingredients we collected and we'll retry calling forth the energies when I return?"

After Freya's hasty exit, Klaus entered to room, smirking. "Your boldness surprises me, sweetheart."

"Why? You thought I'd be ashamed today, wanting to pretend it didn't happen?" Caroline laughed. "You have clearly been banging too many insecure coeds, Klaus." She added the shredded clover to the wooden bowl, stirring counter-clockwise with a raven feather. As Klaus sat on the edge of the table beside her, she explained, "I've existed a couple of centuries now. I know myself enough to know what I want. What you revealed to me last night moved me in a way that's difficult to put into words. I wanted you, so I took you." She grinned mischievously. "And more importantly, I _allowed_ you to take me."

"Your generosity is much appreciated." He kissed her softly on the lips. "And for the record, there weren't _that_ many coeds."

Caroline ran the tip of her nose just under his jawline. "And there won't be _any_ going forward. I own this now. I do not share, Klaus," she murmured with a steel edge to her declaration.

"Likewise, sweetheart," Klaus growled nibbling deliciously along her smooth neck. He raised his head once more to face her. "I'm afraid curiosity has gotten the better of me, though. Your obvious comfort around the snake while we took our pleasure leads me to believe that wasn't your first time."

Caroline threw back her head, laughing. "Surely you didn't think you were bedding a 200-year-old virgin, did you?" She noticed his irritation and explained, "On occasion, my rituals call for snake handling, so yes, I've had practice." She winked at him impulsively, "Of course, I also once had the privilege of making the acquaintance of a snake charmer. He was _very generous_ with his lessons and I was a _very willing_ student."

"I see," Klaus scowled.

"I'm teasing, Klaus. I just have an affinity for snakes. I possess subtle influence over them, but it's not like I can speak their language. You can relax; you're not fucking Harry Potter."

He shook his head, chuckling. With a wicked gleam, he slid his warm hand up her bare leg, raising the hemline of her gauzy cream skirt a few inches. He pulled his head away to stare at her momentarily, a silent question in his gleaming eyes.

Biting her lip, Caroline parted her thighs slightly, and leaned in to seal his soft lips with hers. Their tongues caressed each other languidly, dancing to a delicious rhythm that Klaus mimicked with his finger as he brushed over her covered mound softly. His strokes became more insistent as he could smell her arousal.

Caroline swayed her hips slightly, moving to a song only she and Klaus could hear as they continued to tease with their tongues. She purred when he moved past the thin cotton of her panties and stroked her folds.

"You're getting me all wet, love," Klaus said seductively, circling his finger near her entrance, "it may be too slippery to stay in."

"Let me try to keep it in," Caroline whispered, and reached down to cover his hand with hers, guiding his finger inside her warmth. She pushed her thighs together and started riding his trapped finger, moving slowly, sensually against his heated flesh.

"Fuck," Klaus growled, increasing his strokes within her.

Caroline licked a wet trail up his neck and asked breathlessly, "Will you let me come? I need it," she begged, meeting his thrusting hand with her hips.

"Yes, sweetheart," Klaus rumbled, his eyes flashing gold. "Look at me when you come. Soak me," he commanded.

Caroline could feel the familiar curl within her belly and she rocked her hips harder against his hand, wanting to press his flesh as firmly against hers as possible. "Yes, Klaus," she groaned, riding through her orgasm as she clenched around him. She rested her forehead against his firm chest, smugly noting his heavy breathing.

He kissed her blonde curls and removed his hand from between her thighs. "That was bloody fantastic, sweetheart," he murmured. As he raised his hand to his lips to savor her sticky sweet release, she unexpectedly lifted her face and curled her tongue around his finger, lapping at her own essence. "Yes, it was," she grinned as she felt his bulge against her body. "And I expect a repeat performance later tonight."

Klaus frowned, "Why not right now?"

"Because your sister is likely standing out there in the hallway impatiently waiting for us to stop 'rutting like animals', or some other uptight cliché she thinks of and we do have a spell that needs creating." She kissed his pouting lips quickly. "But I appreciate the enthusiasm. You really helped me focus."

Klaus' eyes twinkled. "I think I should be upset about being so rudely used and discarded."

"Yes, but you're not and I have no intention of 'discarding' you. I take excellent care of my possessions," Caroline teased him as she straightened her skirt.

Freya's irritated voice called out impatiently from the hallway, "If you two are quite finished with your carnal explorations, I'd like to resume our true purpose for meeting."

Caroline rolled her eyes at Klaus. "Called it — do you think she was present for just the money shot or do you think she caught the whole aria?"

Klaus laughed, kissing the tip of her nose. "I expect us to continue our opera later. And I can assure you, there will be _multiple_ standing ovations, sweetheart," he smirked as he walked out the door.

Freya marched back into the room, unceremoniously dumping a stack of dusty grimoires on the table beside them. She grabbed the top two and moved to the opposite side of the table, sighing loudly.

Caroline rolled her eyes and grabbed the grimoire on top of the stack and flipped through a few pages before she felt a humming in the air. Before she could ask Freya if she felt that, the massive picture window exploded, sending jagged pieces of glass toward them. Freya cried out as glass rained down on her head, taking shallow slices of her cheeks and forehead. She managed to freeze the remaining glass shards in mid-air that were hurtling toward her, but a projectile headed straight for Caroline.

She confidently held up her arms to stop the glass before it could do any harm, but it was no use. She watched in disbelief as a ragged piece the size of her head barreled straight into her, burying itself into the flesh of her raised forearms. Crying out in anger, she bent her leg and kicked outward, dislodging the broken glass from her body. She was amazed to see the bloody piece shatter before it hit the floor and evaporate into a sickly green mist along with the pieces Freya had left frozen above her. Caroline whipped her head to the window frame, expecting to see jagged glass pieces where the window once stood. Instead, the window panes were whole, as though it never happened.

Klaus rushed back into the library, gripping Caroline's shoulders tightly as he spun her around to face him. "What happened? Are you hurt," he asked urgently.

Caroline nodded dumbly as she lifted her arms to examine them closely. The shattered window may not have been real, but the blood pooling at her feet and her torn flesh indicated that just because it was an illusion didn't mean it couldn't be real _enough_.

"Here, drink, love." Klaus had bitten deeply into his arm and offered it to her.

She quickly gathered her wits and shook her head. "I'm fine. Immortal, remember? It will just take a while to heal properly."

Klaus was insistent. "Take my blood, sweetheart. I will not see you hurt when it's within my power to stop it. You'll heal instantly this way."

She started to protest again, but one look in his concerned gray eyes convinced her to accept his offer. She carefully lapped at the warm red blood trickling from his wound. The coppery taste did nothing for her, but she could tell from the hitch in his breath and the tightening of his muscles that blood play was an erotic avenue he would want to explore with her at some point. She filed that away to contemplate later. In the meantime, she enjoyed the feeling of being held by him, the warmth and safety of his muscled arms gave her a sense of security she didn't realize she had been missing until she met him. She could feel his fear when he realized she had been hurt. It touched her to know that she could bring about tender feelings within such a creature.

A small whimper caught her attention. She glanced over to see Freya huddled underneath the oak table, clasping her knees under her chin as she trembled. Caroline crawled underneath the table toward the frightened girl. "Hey," she said softly, taking note of Freya's bloody face, "you're ok. Let me help you up," she soothed, reaching out to grasp Freya's hand.

Freya shouted, "Don't touch me," and scurried further away from Caroline, shaking violently. "It's Dahlia, she's found me!" She closed her eyes and mumbled, "I won't go back; I can't go back; please don't let her take me!"

Caroline's heart ached for the girl. Clearly, she was terrified of Dahlia and whatever psychological or even physical damage Dahlia had done to her over the years had taken its toll. "Klaus," she said as she climbed back out from underneath the table, "Freya was injured too. She needs your blood."

Klaus seemed to hesitate at first, but Caroline jutted out her chin stubbornly. With a sigh, he grabbed an empty crystal tumbler and held his dripping wrist over the mouth. He bent down and handed the glass to Freya who took it hesitantly. As her face started to heal, she slowly climbed out from underneath the table on the other side and refused to meet their eyes. Setting the empty tumbler down, she quietly said, "Thank you. I — I apologize for my shameful cowardice. It won't happen again."

"Dahlia fired a warning shot and it took us by surprise. We'll be more prepared next time," Caroline swore.

Freya nodded. "Yes, let's resume our efforts. Clearly Dahlia was trying to intimidate us."

They all sat back down at the table, poring over the ancient texts. Caroline glanced at Klaus. "You don't have to play guard dog, you know. Surely you have something better to do."

Klaus smiled, "Actually, I had planned on visiting Jackson and Haley's pack, but they're having a pack meeting tonight and somehow forgot to invite me. Naturally, I was going to crash the party, but then I recalled that you would be here and I would be remiss in my hosting duties if I wasn't here to cater to your needs."

Caroline rolled her eyes at his attempts to distract her. "I hadn't heard about a pack meeting. I wonder what's going on?"

He studied her, puzzled. "Are you often privy to the innermost workings of werewolf politics?"

"Not with other packs, but with Jackson and Haley's pack — yes." Ordinarily, Caroline would have been hesitant to reveal so much, but now that she and Klaus were getting closer, she felt that she needed to be more open with him and divulge more of herself. "I have a few friends among that werewolf pack. In fact, one of the couples made me the godmother of their son, Remy."

He was intrigued. "How did that come about? It's my understanding that werewolves take the naming of godparents very seriously and bayou wolves especially do not give outsiders such honored titles."

Caroline shrugged. "There were extenuating circumstances. Marcel had given the couple my name when they were having troubles conceiving. Apparently they didn't trust any of the witches in the Quarter that Marcel once controlled. They told him they needed someone trustworthy that was never under Marcel's thumb." She smiled broadly. "And I've never been under Marcel's thumb. Or any of his other parts, for that matter."

Klaus snorted inelegantly. "That's a relief. Heaven forbid we find ourselves in an _Oedipus_ situation."

"Eww. Also, Marcel's too much of a man-whore for me to ever take him seriously. He's with your sister occasionally when you aren't trying to kill each other, he's got an on-and-off-again thing happening with my friend Bonnie, and he also chats up this twit bartender that thinks she's channeling Dr. Freud because she knows the phrase 'penis envy' and wants to heal dark, broken souls." She shook her head in irritation. "Seriously, she is the embodiment of every empty-headed bimbo in slasher movies that investigates a strange noise in the basement instead of running out the door."

Amused, he asked, "And how would you handle a strange noise in the basement?"

Caroline cocked an eyebrow. "I'd level the basement."

Freya suddenly spoke up. "Do you perform many supernatural fertility charms?"

Surprised by Freya's sudden interest in her, Caroline answered, "Not many. It's usually the occasional werewolf couple that approaches me. Pack mentality lends itself to the desire to reproduce. I performed a ritual for this couple and in gratitude, they surprised me by naming me the boy's godmother." She smiled fondly. "They sometimes ask me to babysit the boy if they're heading out of town on pack business." Since Freya was reaching out, she decided to reciprocate. "What about you? In your practice, are fertility spells commonplace?"

Freya shook her head. "Dahlia performed the ancient rites in exchange for pieces of the resulting offsprings' souls. She drew her power from them."

Caroline was horrified. "That's horrendous! To harm children for the sake of power? Power gained in that reprehensible manner is a violation of every natural law I know."

Freya whispered, "Dahlia believes herself to be above the laws of nature."

Caroline shook her head angrily. "We're going to stop her. We can't let her —" she abruptly stopped her diatribe when her phone started ringing. When she saw that it was Jackson calling her, she felt her heart plummet. After Jackson had left her close friend for Haley, he knew better than to reach out to Caroline unless it was an emergency. Something was wrong. A coldness crept through her bones as she shakily answered his call.

"Caroline?" The pack leader's broken voice filled the room. "It's Jenna and Alaric."

Her heart started pounding loudly. "What about them," she whispered, dreading what was coming.

"They've been murdered."

The phone fell from her hand and clattered to the table. Jenna and Alaric were gone. She vaguely could feel Klaus hugging her too him. Numbly, she told him, "Jenna and Alaric were the werewolf couple that asked for the fertility ritual." She felt his muscles tense as she tried to hold back her tears. "Someone killed them and they've left behind a ten-year-old son." As Klaus held her, she gave into the tidal wave of sorrow that washed over her and she wept.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Warning: Mature sexual content.

"You know I been hopin', I been trustin', that my baby would change someday."

— _Mean Disposition_ , Muddy Waters

She kept her face expressionless as she delicately slid the rough-hewn obsidian edge into Jenna and Alaric's entwined wrists. Caroline worked quickly, ensuring that enough of the couple's blood marked the blade. She did not allow her eyes to wander to their lifeless faces or she knew her grief would consumer her and she would be unable to complete the necessary ritual. The pack's sorrow strangled the air, making it nearly impossible for her to breathe. She could sense their pain and their anger as she struggled with her own chaotic emotions. In her extended time in this world, she was no stranger to loss. As much as she wished it, not everyone could stay. It was one of the cruelest lessons life had taught her. As her moist blue eyes spied the tiny bowed head of Remy, a wave of pure rage washed over her. She would seek retribution for him.

Caroline climbed down from the wooden slats of the makeshift scaffold, carefully wrapping the obsidian knife in an ivory handkerchief. The gathered werewolves nodded their heads respectfully as she walked past them. Jackson caught her eye and she solemnly bowed her head, her blonde waves obscuring her face as she indicated the first part of the ritual was complete. He grasped a burning torch and walked steadily to the funeral pyre with his head held high. As pack leader, it was his sacred duty to ignite the bodies and release the spirits of his fallen pack members. The crunching of dry leaves under his heavy footsteps broke the oppressive silence in the bayou.

Klaus stood at the edge of the crowd, and Caroline nestled quietly into his side, craving the comfort of his warm body hugging hers. Together, they watched the smoke consume the bodies, silent tears trickling down Caroline's pale face. Unable to look any longer at the wretched flames, she focused her attention on Remy, who was clutching the hand of an elderly woman tightly. Klaus looked down and noticed her gaze. He sadly inquired, "What will happen to the boy?"

Caroline sniffed, looking up to meet his troubled gray eyes. "His grandmother is with him now and he will live with her. The pack takes care of its own — the boy will never be alone; he has a family to love him." She had a faraway look in her eye as she thought of the unsettling task that she must perform later on. She shook her head to rid herself of the dark thoughts that flooded her mind. She continued, "The pack will close ranks as they remain alert. There will be unrest as they determine if it was an act of war against the pack or if it was against Jenna and Alaric specifically."

"Violence is always a declaration of war. It's merely a matter of for whom the message was intended," Klaus said stiffly, returning his gaze to the growing flames. He sighed, lost in thought and asked, "And what will your role be now in this pack?"

Caroline replied, "The pack naturally will be distrustful of outsiders. As much as they have relied upon me in the past, I am not one of them. Out of respect for Jenna and Alaric as well as the pack rules, I will keep my distance as they work through their grief. Remy's grandmother knows how to reach me as does Remy and the rest of the pack." A small sob escaped her as she thought back to the emotionally draining conversation she had had with Remy this morning. She had tried to explain why she was making herself scarce, but to a 10-year-old boy traumatized by the sudden deaths of his parents, he was understandably angry at everyone, including her.

Klaus pulled her closer to him, hugging her stiffly as she sobbed. From his awkward stance, she deduced that he was uncomfortable showing emotions, especially in public, and he clearly didn't offer comfort to others. She was honored that he was choosing to set aside his fears of intimacy and showing her a glimpse of his humanity.

After the funeral, Klaus dropped her off at her house. As she exited the car kissing his cheek, she said, "Meet me at sunset in Woldenberg Park. I need to get out of my head for a bit and there's somewhere special I'd like to take you."

Intrigued, Klaus said, "I'm happy to accompany you anywhere, love. But keep in mind that my family helped build this city; I doubt there's a single stone I have yet to uncover here."

Grinning at his arrogance, Caroline mysteriously replied, "Not this place; I guarantee it." She shut the door and walked up her cobblestone pathway, chuckling at Klaus' confusion.

At sunset, Caroline walked along Canal Street, silently contemplating the churning waves of the Mississippi River. She often found solace in the river; it was an ageless, powerful giant, and despite man's incessant need to conquer and dominate, it remained unchanged. As she entered the park, she spied Klaus standing by the brilliant white Carrara marble statue, _Monument to the Immigrant_. "Stunning, isn't it" he asked as she joined him.

"It's a favorite of mine," she agreed, admiring the flowing lines that perfectly captured the flowing movement of windswept fabric.

He traced small circles on the inside of her palm, humming slightly. "I can see why this particular work would appeal to someone like you who seems to have dedicated her immortal life to helping those in need. Franco Allesandrini portrayed Lady Liberty as a guardian angel, watching over immigrants as they search for a better life." He softly kissed her temple, causing her to shiver slightly in the breeze. "Who could have predicted that fierce voodoo priestesses make superb guardian angels?"

Caroline smiled faintly. "I don't feel particularly fierce these days." She clasped his hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips. "Thank you for joining me this evening. There's a place I like to frequent when I need a distraction. I rarely bring guests; in fact, you'll be the first suitor that's accompanied me."

Klaus flashed his dimples. "Suitor?"

She shrugged. "Would you prefer lover? Consort? Boyfriend? Hot, hybrid man-candy?"

He chuckled, grasping her face with both hands and bringing her in for a deep, soul-scarring kiss. As she swayed slightly from the brutal feelings he stirred within her, he whispered, "Call me what you like, sweetheart. It's my honor to gladly wear any brand you deem fit."

She grabbed his hands and confidently pulled him to the waist-high metal fence that separated the walkway from the pebbled water's edge. Under a cover of darkness, she raised her arms above her head, chanting quietly. Suddenly, Klaus felt a tremor in the air as Caroline's magic swirled around them. He watched in astonishment as a small section of the Mississippi suddenly lifted above their heads, revealing a dry clay river bed. Giggling at his shocked expression, she scrambled over the railing and commanded, "Come on!"

They walked down the steep, rocky incline until they reach the water's edge. However, before they could step through the narrow doorway Caroline had opened, the water crashed back into the river bed, churning angrily at their feet. Confused and dripping wet, Klaus looked at Caroline for answers.

Rolling her eyes, she quickly dried him off with the flick of her wrist and a muttered incantation before putting her hands on her hips and shouting into the muddy abyss, "Seriously? Don't make me come in there! You guys have no right to judge my romantic entanglements. Shall I start listing the bullshit choices you've made over the years?"

The waves suddenly stilled as though they saw the wisdom of Caroline's words. She nodded her head in satisfaction. "That's what I thought," she said smugly. She raised her arms once more and the section of water floated above their heads. As she grasped Klaus' hand and led him into the suddenly dry river bed, she explained. "I know some water nymphs. They're a pair of judgmental twins; ironic, considering their own life choices. You and Elijah might want to stay away from here; they've got a thing for brothers."

She led him deeper into the river, and as he craned his neck at the flowing Mississippi above them, he was enchanted to see the underbelly of the famed riverboat, _Natchez_ , as it lazily paddled its way across the river. "You are a wonder, Caroline," he said warmly. "You constantly find ways to shatter all of my expectations."

She winked as they came to the center of the river where a dilapidated tiny shack stood. "Prepare to be amazed, then." She tugged him toward the door that looked to be falling off of its rusty hinges. "I was in the mood to hear some blues tonight," she explained.

Klaus laughed at her obvious excitement. "We're in New Orleans, love. I could have taken you to any number of fantastic blues clubs."

"Not like this," she said confidently, and pushed open the rickety door.

His ears were immediately overwhelmed by the soulful mourning sound of a vaguely familiar voice. As they stepped inside, he was astonished to see a grand room richly decorated in burgundy and black fabrics and a long, gleaming mahogany bar trimmed with ornate brass. Round black tables centered around plush booths were filled to capacity as the crowd sipped their cocktails and shouted and clapped to the wonderful music.

A pale hostess dressed in black lace greeted Caroline with a slight bow, "Good to see you, Priestess." She gestured to the crowded center of the night club. "May I show you and your companion to your table?"

"Yes, please." Caroline wrapped her arm around Klaus' waist, the twinkle in her blue eyes showing her pleasure in revealing such a hidden gem.

The hostess led them to the center of the room and a large, empty booth hugging a round table shimmered into existence, subtly moving the multiple booths filled with people to make room. Caroline slid onto the soft velvet seat and told the hostess, "Screwdriver. Heavy on the screw."

As Klaus joined her, he added a Glendronach neat to her order. After the hostess' departure, he studied the club more closely and his eyes were drawn to the raised stage where underneath the colored stage lights, a thin black man wearing a fedora was skillfully picking away on his guitar. His smooth, high voice with its strangely familiar, haunting quaver filled the room:

"Oh baby don't you want to go,  
Oh baby don't you want to go,  
Back to the land of California,  
to my sweet home Chicago."

He leaned into Caroline, who was happily clapping along with the rest of the crowd, and whispered to her, "Consider me impressed, love. That man does an excellent impersonation of Robert Johnson."

Caroline leaned back against Klaus' outstretched arm and snickered softly, "He should — considering that _is_ Robert Johnson."

"That's impossible; Robert Johnson died in the late '30s, supposedly poisoned by a jealous husband," Klaus explained stubbornly.

"Says the ancient, supernatural Energizer bunny," Caroline retorted. "He made a deal," she explained.

"So the legend is true, then? He made a bargain with the supernatural in exchange for musical talents. What about the hellhounds that supposedly were after him," Klaus asked curiously.

Caroline shook her head. "He made a deal with my mentor, Abby, a powerful voodoo priestess who taught me everything I know. She granted him immortality so he could carry on doing what he loved best — making music." She chuckled, adding, "And as for hellhounds, he's always hung out with a few werewolves that were fans." She shrugged nonchalantly, "There's something about the blues that appeals to the restlessness of lupine nature, I suppose."

She closed her eyes and swayed to the soulful final notes from the famous Delta-blues guitarist. "There's no other musical genre that has a broken heart quite like the blues. It weeps and wails and tears out its soul and lays bare every single emotion it has."

Their drinks were delivered and Klaus clinked his crystal against hers. "Thank you for sharing this with me, sweetheart."

She smiled, "My pleasure."

The lights dimmed on the stage and the crowd rose to its feet, showering the talented musician with thundering applause and cat-calls. He bowed and exited the stage to be replaced by a round-faced black man wearing suspenders. He plucked a few experimental chords and then his rich, seductive voice started singing:

"She got a mean disposition, she got some low-down, dirty ways.  
She got a mean disposition, she got some low-down, dirty ways.  
You know I been hopin', I been trustin', that my baby would change someday."

Klaus' gray eyes widened as he became transfixed with the bluesman. "That's — that's Muddy Waters," he whispered in awe. "I presume Abby made a deal with him as well?"

"Actually, that one's mine," Caroline proudly revealed. "He grew too curious about the legend of Robert Johnson and through an unlikely combination of persistence and dumb luck, he sought me out." She giggled, "Fortunately for him, I was a bit of a fan girl and he caught me on a good day, so I made a deal with him similar to Robert's agreement with Abby."

Sipping his scotch, he confessed, "I saw him in concert once — Memphis in 1964 — he was a true talent. Still is, obviously."

As the final notes of "Mean Disposition" faded away, Robert Johnson came back on stage with another bar stool and the two transcendent musicians began to harmonize:

"The gypsy woman told my mother  
Before I was born,  
You got a boy child's comin';  
He's gonna be a son of a gun.  
He gonna make pretty women  
Jump and shout."

Caroline threw back the rest of her drink and casually placed her hand in Klaus' lap. She began rubbing smooth circles over the rough fabric of his jeans, her blue eyes alight with mischief. With the lightest of touches, she lazily traced the prominent outline of his erection.

Klaus raised an eyebrow, his devilish smirk clearly a challenge. Without hesitation, Caroline deftly popped open the button on his jeans and slid down his zipper with a brief tug of her eager fingers. She massaged the firm flesh that sprang free, creating a delicious friction between his silk boxers and his velvet flesh. He dropped a seductive whisper into the shell of her ear. "You're quite the voyeur, aren't you, love?"

She lifted her chin and gently nibbled on his earlobe. "The crowd only sees what I want them to see." She glanced around the packed night club, the throngs of people gyrating to the sweet, seductive wails of the two bluesmen. Desire pooled within her and she slyly asked, "What do you say, Klaus? Wanna get off in this crowded room and no one's the wiser?"

He licked his lips and nodded, his gray eyes darkening with lust.

She firmly grasped his engorged penis, and took achingly slow strokes from base to tip, still ensconced in the smooth fabric of his boxers. She quickly swirled her fingers around his tip, savoring the excited little jerk his flesh gave as it responded to her skillful ministrations.

With a grunt, he commanded, "Fuck, keep going."

She bunched the fabric in her palm, rolling it back and forth along his sensitive skin, watching his knuckles turn white as he gripped the crystal tumbler tightly. It shattered in his steel hold, and as she saw the glass cut into his hand, she reached her free hand to the table top and grazed the jagged glass shard across her open palm. Smiling wickedly, she increased the pressure of her strokes with her other hand, and presented her injured palm to Klaus. "Taste me," she cooed in his ear, reveling in the dark veins spreading underneath his eyes as his fangs unsheathed.

She could feel his abdominal muscles tighten and she ground her palm down into his lap as she tugged on his erection breathlessly. The sharp sting of his fangs was oddly thrilling as she felt him sip at her life force before dipping his tongue into the shallow cut. "Delicious, sweetheart," he brokenly whispered.

He held out his own dripping palm to her and she took an experimental lick, feeling her wound close up instantly, and then feverishly began sucking at his rich blood, suddenly finding the coppery taste erotically thrilling. He bucked his hips wildly against her palm and he came with a satisfying groan. She continued slowly stroking him through his orgasm, relishing the feel of his sticky arousal soaking his boxers and her fingers.

"That was so good, love," he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her on top of him, kissing her passionately. He roughly pushed up the bottom of her chiffon dress, palming her moist mound and growling, "Naughty little minx with no panties." He licked a wet stripe down her throat and rumbled, "I'll wear you out, sweetheart."

"Show me, Klaus," She begged, reaching down and pushing aside his wet boxers. Gripping his sticky flesh, she pumped it once, and slipped his stiffening length past her dripping folds. They both sighed in contentment as he slid wetly up into her core. She brought her knees to his thighs, not wanting to leave any space between them. The groups of people dancing next to them made her flush with excitement with the sinful knowledge that if she willed it, they would be getting an eyeful as she rocked back and forth on top of Klaus.

The dirty, gritty chords of the bluesmen created a delicious rhythm that Klaus followed with every thrust of his hips. He grasped her ass with both hands, crumpling the black and cream material of her dress against the small of her back, exposing her rounded ivory cheeks as he bucked into her forcefully, and through gritted teeth he ordered, "Touch yourself. I want to see it."

With a gasp, she slung one arm behind his neck and leaned back slightly, her other hand tapping a furious tempo at her swollen, glistening clit. With a crescendo that matched the screaming notes from the Gibson, Caroline came with a final slap of her clever fingers. Klaus soon followed with a mighty roar, his golden eyes narrowed to slits as he rested his sweaty forehead against hers.

She wrapped both arms around him, wiggling on his lap as she made herself more comfortable. He kissed her temple delicately, recovering her body with the chiffon fabric of her dress with the lightest, most reverent of touches. Their bodies remained pressed against each other as they caught their breath, occasionally swaying to the seductive sounds wafting from the stage.

As Caroline walked home that night, she didn't bother trying to hide the blissful smile that appeared on her face so frequently these days. Somehow, that powerful, enigmatic and supposedly evil incarnate hybrid had taken every impulse she'd ever had about relationships and turned them upside down. The connection she felt with him was beyond compare; there was no artifice or hidden motivations to unravel. More importantly, she didn't have to hide who she was from him as she did with her human companions. One of the worst aspects of immortality, besides the overwhelming loneliness, was the sense of denying the biggest part of herself to maintain the facade of normality amongst humans. But now she had found someone to share her world. Grinning, Caroline let herself into her front door.

"It's about time you showed up," Bonnie's warm voice greeted her from the living room. "Did you forget we had an appointment tonight?"

Caroline laughed, slinging her lace-up black sandals near the front door. "Relax, we have a few more minutes before the moon is in the correct position." She chastised Bonnie, "Stop trying to make me feel guilty for going out. It doesn't mean that I didn't value my friendship with Jenna and Alaric. How I choose to grieve is my business."

Bonnie held up her hands in surrender. "I understand. It's just Jackson stopped by the bakery today and wanted to know when we would have answers. I told him we were working on it and to back off before we made him take a flea dip."

Caroline's brow furrowed. "Jackson knows better than to harass you. I made it perfectly clear to him that our group remains neutral servants of nature. He can come to us with problems and we may choose to assist. Just like the vampires. That mangy dog dares to dictate to us! I will pay him a visit to remind him of his place. And more importantly, mine," she seethed, energy sparking between her clenched fingers.

"It's fine. He wasn't borrowing trouble. He lost two long-time pack members and is feeling helpless." Bonnie grinned wickedly. "Besides, Marcel kindly escorted Jackson out of my bakery and managed to avoid permanently injuring him."

Caroline's blue eyes lit up, "Marcel _happened_ to be there, hmm? And what was Marcel's business at the Underrated Sidekick?"

Bonnie coyly replied, "Eating cobbler. He's a big fan."

"Yeah, okay, I don't need the dirty details about what a clean-plater Marcel is, Bonnie." She rolled her eyes and said, "Come on, let's do this. The moon should be right where we need it to be." She pulled the obsidian knife still bundled in the ivory handkerchief and headed to her back patio with Bonnie.

They formed a sacred circle with the blessing powder and Caroline sat in a lotus position in the center while Bonnie paced along the edges, burning sage and henbane. They chanted in unison and Caroline called out, "Loa Rada, god of crossroads, I beg you to open the spirit world and grant me your wisdom!" She stabbed the obsidian blade into the night sky, its rough surface sparkling in the silver moonlight. "I seek the murderer of the two souls whose essence rests upon this blade."

Grimacing slightly, Caroline suddenly used the edge to slash into her forearms, allowing her blood to drip upon the ceremonial knife. She cried, "I have shed my life force with this blade and am connected to the unjustly fallen. I beg you to show me the identity of the one I seek. Unmask the murderer!" A golden mist erupted all around the circle, hovering above Caroline's seated figure. She and Bonnie continued chanting and swaying, waiting for the powerful loa spirit to manifest their answer.

The glittering mist twisted and curled in the air, indicating no discernable destination. Finally, a great gust of wind, as though blown forth from the loa's mouth, picked up the twirling golden vapor and suddenly breathed life into it, giving it purpose. Bonnie and Caroline watched as the mist rained down upon Caroline's startled form, soaking into her alabaster skin.

"What the hell was that," Caroline gasped. "I didn't kill them!"

Bonnie shook her head, confused. "Of course you didn't, Caroline. The spell should have lit a path to the killer. Clearly, the spell just malfunctioned."

Caroline angrily threw the blade on the dirt beside her. "But why didn't it work? That spell is infallible — it uses the bound essence of the victim's blood to call out to the murderer. I designed it that way!"

"I know you did, Caroline," Bonnie comforted, "But it's a blood magic ritual, so unless you've been blood sharing with Jenna and Alaric's murderer, it's obvious the spell didn't work."

 _No._ Caroline's heart plummeted in her chest as she understood what the spell revealed.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

" _It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend."_  
― William Blake

Caroline dug her sharp fingernails deep within the shriveled head, yanking forth the meat with great fanfare. She allowed the tiny chunks to sift through her impatient fingers, clenching her fists at random intervals until her knuckles were white and soft cracking noises were audible. She toyed with the outer edges of the head, peeling back the deadened skin and disinterestedly flinging aside the long strips.

"Miss Caroline? I broke my spoon," a little boy said in a sing-song voice as he frantically waved his small arm in the air.

Caroline placed the dried sunflower husk back on her desk and walked toward the boy's table with another plastic spoon. She knelt down beside the seated kids and patiently demonstrated their task once more. "Place the sunflower face up on top of the table and take your spoon and carefully move it across the seeds," she explained, making a soft sawing motion with her spoon as the kids squealed with excitement when a small shower of seeds fell onto the table. "See? You have to be gentle or else you'll spill the seeds on the floor, and then we wouldn't have them to snack on," she added, handing the little boy a new spoon to use.

She made her way to the other tables, making sure that all of her students were engaged in the assignment. She lingered a bit longer at the table where Lavetta was sitting; a small smile graced Caroline's lips. The transformation in Lavetta was astonishing. No longer painfully shy, she smiled easily and interacted more confidently with the other children. Caroline had visited with Lavetta's mother to make sure the compulsion had taken hold and she was pleased to see that the woman appeared to be miraculously reformed. Caroline closed her eyes and savored the sound of Lavetta giggling with the other children. It was perhaps her favorite sound; the pure, innocent noises of children.

At another table, the children were using the sunflower heads as puppets; grasping the broken stalks and making them hop across the table. Caroline huffed in annoyance the longer she stared at the dried sunflower husks. Sure, the sunflower once stood tall, proudly boasting 10 to 12 feet, and then suddenly, without warning, someone comes along and cuts them down, using them for their own agenda. And their lifecycle is spent stupidly idolizing the sun; their happy, dimwitted little flower faces tracking the sun's movements across the sky. Imbecilic heliotropic flowers probably were under the delusion that the sun held them in some sort of esteem; that the smirks and flashing dimples and pretty words meant that the sun cared.

Caroline could feel the magic sparking between her clenched fingers and she breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself down. Fortunately, the school day was coming to a close; just a few more minutes and the bell would ring, leaving her to plan her next move. She snorted softly. Her next move. Right. Because she'd been making such stellar decisions lately. Her most recent questionable decision was not immediately correcting Bonnie when she assumed that Caroline had not been blood sharing with anyone. The fact that she hadn't revealed her suspicions with her closest friend and most trusted advisor was inexcusable.

She tried comforting herself with the knowledge that according to Jackson, Jenna and Alaric had been killed at least a week ago, prior to Caroline meeting Klaus. If Klaus had killed them, he had no way of knowing their importance to her until she told him about her relationship with them at his house. Had he known, would his feelings for her have prevented their deaths? That question plagued her terribly. However, his actions since then were disturbing and stank of betrayal — he had comforted her the night she found out about their deaths; he had even attended their funeral with her!

She shook her head angrily. If it had been anyone else, she would have immediately confronted them, demanding answers. If they were guilty, she would end them painfully. There would be no indecisiveness; no tattling to the pack leader to outsource justice. She protected her friends and if she failed in her responsibility, she exacted revenge to honor those friendships.

Instead, she had laughed off Bonnie's blood sharing comment and fought the urge to cry. She had foolishly opened herself up again after decades of denying her feelings, never allowing herself to make true connections with others. But one encounter with an accent and dimples had her renouncing every vow she'd made when it came to relationships. _No more_ , she thought firmly. And no more hiding. She would seek out Klaus today and finally know the truth.

The final bell ringing startled her from her dark thoughts, and she smiled and waved to her students, wishing them a good evening and helping one little boy, Mark, locate his backpack before he missed his bus. Just as Mark darted out of the classroom, Klaus appeared in the doorway, wearing his signature smirk and lazily leaning against the frame.

Caroline's heart ached when she saw how his gray eyes twinkled at her and how he was curling his lip, clearly getting ready to say something witty but provocative and would no doubt have her seeing stars before she could take off her shoes. If only she could continue living in this moment; when she still had a sliver of uncertainty to cling to. Where everything was still right in her world and she had yet to learn the awful truth of her friends' murder. But she wasn't that person. She couldn't face herself if her immortal life was built on perpetuating lies and half-truths. She straightened her spine, her blue eyes flashing in defiance. She flatly motioned him inside her classroom. Confusion marred his handsome face as he stepped inside, just as Caroline willed the door to slam shut behind him.

"Sweetheart," he began slowly, "what is it?"

She refused to close her eyes at his soft tone. She needed answers. "Is it true?" Her tone was barely above a whisper. "Did you kill Jenna and Alaric?"

For a moment, regret clouded his eyes and Klaus bowed his head. When he finally met her eyes, he found her steel gaze boring into him. "Yes, I did it," he proclaimed, taking a hesitant step toward her. "But you have to listen to me; my actions — "

She cut him off, shrieking, "Are repugnant, just like you! You were there when I received Jackson's call; you even held me at their funeral!" She violently waved her arm and he landed against the closed door, struggling against her power. "What kind of sick fuck do you have to be to attend your murder victims' funeral and pretend to comfort those who mourn?" Caroline chuckled darkly, "So what is it, _hybrid_ ; do you just get off on other people's pain?"

His eyes turned black with anger, and exerting incredible force, he managed to break out of her hold, destroying the wooden door in the process. "Clearly you do, _witch_ ," he shouted. Seeing her momentary confusion seemed to fuel his fury as he continued, "Thought you were so clever, didn't you, love? But I could hear his screams the first time I came here." He cocked his head to the side, clearly enjoying her startled expression. "I'm curious; what possible crime could that poor bloke have committed to earn such a punishment?"

Caroline finally found her voice, and was proud that it did not waver as she told him, "Lorenzo Perrault kept children prisoner in his home. I put a stop to it, but it came at a price. He's the one who burned me at the stake." Her voice dropped to a hiss as she vowed, "And he will continue his punishment as _I_ see fit."

Surprise briefly flickered across his face, but he quickly suppressed it. He met her hard gaze and said, "Just as your friends received the punishment that _I_ deemed necessary."

As he turned to storm out of the room, Caroline's suddenly weary voice stopped him. "Klaus, I'll give you the rest of today to tell the pack. But I'm calling Jackson tomorrow morning." His eyes flashed a furious gold and then he was gone without another word.

After Klaus left her, she slumped behind her desk, head resting in her palms as she gave into the crushing need to weep. He knew of her dark secret and had mocked it for sport. And now she knew of the sinister knowledge he had been harboring. He had killed her close friends. Even more disturbing was the fact that he was able to lie so cunningly to her for days. She wondered if he would have allowed her to remain in blissful ignorance had she not uncovered the truth herself.

She felt like she had sat there, crying uncontrollably for ages, unable to gather the strength to go home. Her phone suddenly registered an incoming call, and she was ready to turn it off and continue ignoring the rest of the world, but the number gave her pause. It was Jenna and Alaric's phone number. Heart hammering in her chest, she hesitantly answered the phone. "Yes?"

"Caroline," Remy's high-pitched voice was full of tears. "I need to see you. Could you come over, please?"

Caroline managed to keep her voice calm as she comforted Remy and confirmed that she was on her way. Her thoughts were racing as she drove into the French Quarter, speeding as much as the tourist traffic jams would allow as she avoided Bourbon and Royal Streets in favor of the less-crowded Burgundy Street before turning onto St. Louis and following it all the way down until she saw the Mississippi. She parked her car in the parking lot by the Natchez dock and ran to the Gray Line Ticket Office. Breathing hard, she leaned against the ticket counter and was relieved to see that it was devoid of tourists for the moment, which meant she wouldn't need to play coy.

"I seek passage to Bayou Tchoupic," she said breathlessly.

The skinny college freshman behind the glass window rolled his eyes. "There's nothing named that around here, lady." Pushing his black hipster glasses against the bridge of his nose, in a bored tone, he suggested, "How about a river tour on the Natchez?"

Muttering under her breath, she managed to avoid willing his pimpled skin to peel off into strips like an overripe banana. She rifled through her pink purse until she located the three-strand alligator bone and wooden beaded bracelet and slammed it onto the counter. " _Now_ tell me it doesn't exist," she said defiantly.

The boy's hazel eyes grew wide and frightened. He nervously looked at her and mumbled, "I — I'm sorry. I didn't think _the_ Priestess would look so, so, um…hot."

Caroline cocked an eyebrow, amused. "A couple of weeks ago, I might have been tempted to play Mrs. Robinson and teach you some manners you desperately need, but you've caught me at a particularly inopportune time. Please be a dear and bring around the boat immediately."

Blushing furiously, the boy nearly fell off of his chair as he quickly put a closed sign in the window and exited the booth, locking it behind him. He gave a half bow to her and stumbled a bit as he led her toward the docks. "I'll just go and um…get — get the boat," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

While Caroline waited impatiently for him to fetch the airboat, she rolled the wooden beads through her fingers. It had started out as a gift from the Choctaw tribe when they learned she had been responsible for rescuing the group of Choctaw children that Lorenzo had been holding prisoner in his mansion in 1856. Wearing the bracelet had granted her safe passage onto their lands. Bayou Tchoupic, which meant "muddy water" in the Choctaw tongue, had been a travel and trade route for many years by the Choctaw. Her mentor, Abby, had taught her where to find rare medicinal plants on these lands and she had spent countless hours scouring the area for Jerusalem oak, Sampson snake root and yellow root to make healing poultices and dried bundles for rituals.

In the early twentieth century, a werewolf sought her out and asked for her help in creating a protection spell for his pack. They had settled onto the lands the Choctaw had been brutally driven from and he feared that history could repeat itself if he didn't take preventative measures. She had enlisted Abby's help and together they created a spell that hid the entire Bayou Tchoupic. Now, to the uninvited outsider, the area was called _Bayou St. John_ , and appeared to be less than five miles long, with an average width of 200 feet. They had bound the spell to Caroline's bracelet and she used it as her token to gain passage to the area. As the werewolf pack had grown, more people had been allowed onto the pack lands, but it was ultimately the pack leader who had final say in who could gain access.

Jackson was the latest pack leader, and while Caroline had questioned his decisions over the years, she had been especially surprised when she heard that he had allowed Klaus access. She assumed it had something to do with Haley and the shared custody situation with Hope that had tentatively been worked out between the skanky werewolf "queen" and the hybrid.

Her thoughts drifted to Remy and she had a difficult time maintaining her composure as she worried over why he had summoned her. What else could have befallen her poor godson? While he hadn't sounded hurt, he did appear frightened and it tore at her heart to think that his parents weren't there to comfort him. Finally, the airboat pulled up to the docks and the boy grasped her hand in his sweaty palms and helped her to her seat. The flat-bottomed vessel surged forward with a roar, the noise from the propeller and engine made it impossible to carry on a conversation. Not that she had anything to say to the college boy, who looked both aroused and terrified by her mere presence. _An awkward situation that plagued most of her encounters_ , she mused.

Just as the sun began to set, they neared what appeared to be the edge of Bayou St. John, and she held up the bracelet so that the drooping branches of the weeping willows that bordered the swamp suddenly parted, allowing the airboat entry into a vast waterway. They passed by giant cypress trees, their ancient root systems forming steep walls along the river. The boat turned sharply at the bend, and the boy cut the engine when a massive gray and black rock came into view. They drifted silently toward the mossy bank. As Caroline exited the boat, she called over her shoulder, "I'll summon you when I am ready to leave."

Nervously, the boy asked, "Do you need my cell number or will you just call the ticket office?"

She chuckled. "Neither. Trust me, when I summon you, you'll know." She left him gaping at her as she carefully navigated the slippery river bank. As she scrambled over the tall cypress roots, the werewolf village came into view, a charming collection of small log cabins arranged along a white gravel pathway that led to the grand two-story meeting hall. She fiercely fought back tears as she recalled being here several weeks ago, visiting Jenna, Alaric and Remy. They had invited her over for dinner and since being hopeless in the kitchen was something she had come to terms with long ago, she had brought a delicious white chocolate Challah bread pudding that Bonnie had baked just that afternoon.

They had dined on a rich crawfish etouffee; the heavy cream sauce was pure ambrosia in her mouth. As they had laughed and teased Remy about a little girl in his class that had written him a sweet poem, Caroline had noticed that Jenna and Alaric had been glancing at each other throughout the meal as though silently communicating. After Remy had gone to bed, they had moved to the front porch, drinking beer while swinging on the creaky porch swing. She had asked them if something was troubling them, and while Jenna seemed inclined to want to discuss it, Alaric had quickly shaken his head 'no' and they had changed the subject after assuring her that everything was fine. Caroline now wished she had probed their disquieting silence. Perhaps they had known Klaus was after them?

Sighing heavily, Caroline arrived at Jenna and Alaric's cabin. Remy's grandmother had moved in to take care of him, wanting him to stay in the only home he had ever known, thinking it would provide some small comfort. Hesitantly, she knocked on the door and Remy quickly answered it, throwing himself into her arms with a strangled sob.

She clutched him tightly, her heart bursting with the pain she could feel radiating from him. "Remy, sweetheart," she quietly soothed him, "please tell me what's wrong." She led him inside and sat him on the worn plaid sofa near the small wooden stove.

Sniffling, he looked at her with puffy red eyes. "Caroline, I don't…I…don't know what to do," he began, wiping stray tears away angrily. In a trembling voice he asked, "What do you do when you know something you aren't supposed to know?"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Author's note: Dear readers, thank you for taking the time to stop by the alternate universe I have created. Your comments and feedback are greatly appreciated and give me the motivation to continue this unique writing experiment. I am proud to be a part of a community where we respect each other's work and understand the time and energy and _shear courage_ it takes to put our souls out there for the world to see.

" _It is more shameful to distrust our friends than to be deceived by them."  
_ ― Confucius

Caroline looked at her godson, dumbfounded by his question. She smoothed his brown locks away from his sweaty forehead, trying to calm him down. "Remy, whatever it is, you can tell me and I promise I'll help you. Please let me help."

Remy took a shuddering breath and confessed, "A few months ago, I overheard my mom and dad talking about someone telling them they would get a big reward if they did what this person asked." Remy frowned. "When I heard that, I didn't know what they were talking about so I forgot about it. But then, just a couple of weeks ago, Mom and Dad would take turns being gone for hours at a time. One night, I was staying at Grandma's but I forgot my homework and she made me go get it from my room. I got to our walkway when I could hear Mom and Dad arguing about the pack…and about you." He hung his head, unable to meet Caroline's worried gaze.

Caroline pulled him close and said reassuringly, "Whatever they said about me, it's ok. I'm not here to judge; I just want to help make whatever has you so upset go away for good, ok?"

"Ok," he said, still uncertain. "Dad said that Dahlia needed them to find out where all the safe houses were. He told my mom that she needed to get you to do a location spell on the baby without telling you what it was for." He angrily swiped at a stray tear and continued, "But Mom told him that they should just tell you the truth and that you'd help them because you were friends. But then Dad said they couldn't trust you because Dahlia would get the baby and hurt it and you don't let people hurt kids."

Caroline was numb with shock as she stared blankly into the frightened brown eyes of her godson. The terrible things Remy had overheard were too much for Caroline to comprehend. How had Remy managed to keep this to himself all this time? "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry you got dragged into this mess," she began, but was cut off by his hysterical sobs.

"They were talking about Baby Hope, I know they were! And they were helping that evil witch get her!" He jumped up from the couch, clenching his fists at his sides as he yelled, "They went against our pack! You _never_ go against the pack 'cause they're your family, but it was _my_ parents so I didn't tell Jackson or nobody and when Jackson finds out, they'll cut me loose and I'll be all by myself or they'll kill me!" He knelt down in front of Caroline, hugging her neck with both arms as his little body trembled with fear and anger and far too many emotions for a grieving child to have to process all alone.

Caroline hugged her godson tightly as she tried to reconcile the explosive revelation with what she thought she had known about Jenna and Alaric. They were loyal pack members who put the pack above everything else. _And they betrayed their pack by working with Dahlia_. They were loyal friends to her; honoring her by naming her Remy's godmother. _And they had planned on manipulating her and using her power for their own selfish gain_. They were caring, loving, generous people who were great parents. _And they plotted to help Dahlia steal Hope for a ritual that would likely kill the baby._

Caroline needed more time to process all that she had learned, but that would have to wait. Right now, her job as Remy's godmother was to reassure him that he was safe, that she would protect him, but most of all, that he was loved and would never be alone.

She grasped him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye as she firmly said, "Remy, I told you I would help you, and I mean it. I'm getting Jackson over here and we're going to tell him what you told me. I've been around this pack for almost a century and I know your laws very well. They would _never_ punish you for something you overheard your parents say. Whatever your parents did will not affect _your_ standing in this pack. _You_ are staying in this pack where you'll be surrounded by more family and love than you can stand. You will always be protected and _I_ will always be here for you." She pulled him into a fierce hug, fighting down her own desire to break down into a sobbing, wailing mess.

"Caroline's right, Remy." Jackson's calm voice resonated through the small cabin.

Caroline looked up and was surprised to see both Jackson and Klaus standing at the cabin's threshold, the door now standing wide open. Caroline and Remy had been so absorbed in their emotional conversation, they hadn't realized Jackson and Klaus had been standing on the porch listening in. Caroline quickly stood up, shoving Remy's small body behind hers. She was acting on pure instinct; she couldn't say if she was protecting her godson from Jackson, Klaus, or just the harsh realities of the world itself. "This saves us some time," she said coolly, immediately slipping back into her position as powerful voodoo priestess rather than terrified woman who was clueless about her closest friends' true intentions. "How much did you hear," she asked, not taking her eyes off of Jackson.

"All of it," Jackson glanced back at Klaus, nodding, "This corroborates what Klaus told me this evening. I will declare their deaths a just kill."

She squeezed her eyes shut momentarily at Jackson's words. _A just kill_. There was no such thing. Any death at your hands leaves its mark upon your soul. The motivations cannot change the laws of nature. She felt Remy's hot hand squeeze hers until his nails broke her skin. Her godson, _a 10-year-old_ _boy_ , just heard his pack leader callously refer to his parent's murder as 'just'. Angrily, she cut Jackson off before he could spew more self-important nonsense. "Jackson, go get your second as well as Remy's grandmother."

Caroline read the confusion on the pack leader's face. She explained, "We're rededicating Remy to this pack tonight, so call your pack forth to the meeting hall."

Jackson frowned and argued, "Now wait just a damn minute. You don't get to come into our village and make demands of my pack, Caroline."

Caroline's temper flared, her clenched fingers sending off faint sparks in the small cabin. "As Remy's godmother, I have every right to demand his pack reaffirm their loyalty to him. He is _mine_ to protect and I will _force_ submission from your pack if it is not freely given! You and your second-in-command _will_ stand beside Remy in the meeting hall and declare him one of you. I will not suffer this pack's insolence or muttered whispers about Remy. He will not be punished or stigmatized or so help me I will obliterate _my_ protection spell for this village and take Remy far, far away where I will fulfill the responsibilities of guardian that a bunch of backwoods werewolves can't seem to grasp!" Her shouts echoed through the cabin and the land trembled. Her angry blue eyes caught Klaus staring at her with an unreadable expression. She looked away, unable to face him just yet.

Jackson looked as though he wanted to argue with Caroline some more, but he seemed to think better of it when he realized Remy was still trembling behind her. His hard gaze softened and he said to Remy, "Your godmother is a giant, terrifying pain in the ass. But she's fiercely loyal to you." He sighed heavily, "And she's right. But let's not spread that around the pack too much." He nodded at Caroline. "Gather what you need for the binding ritual and let us know when you're ready. We'll reaffirm Remy's place in our pack and swear our loyalty tonight."

Jackson left, just as Remy's grandmother returned to the cabin. As Caroline welcomed the confused woman across the threshold, she finally spoke to Klaus. She said curtly, "Don't go far," and shut the cabin door firmly. She fetched the woman a drink and summarized what had happened with Remy hugging her side tightly. The woman was naturally in shock just as she had been, but Caroline saw the fierce determination in her to protect Remy at all costs. Caroline assured her that she was insisting that a rededication ceremony occur tonight and she would perform the binding herself.

The woman relaxed somewhat at this news and gently patted her arm appreciatively. In her gravelly smoker's voice, she declared, "You'd have made a fine wolf, priestess."

Flustered at the unexpected compliment, Caroline smiled and exited the cabin, mumbling that she needed to prepare for the ritual. She walked down the pebbled pathway until she came to the edge of the village. Klaus waited for her under the drooping branches of a weeping willow. She crossed her arms in defiance and muttered, "You aren't sorry."

"Untrue," Klaus disagreed. "I regret lying to you."

"But not killing my friends," Caroline asked, hating how her voice broke when she said 'friends'.

Klaus sighed heavily. "Freya declared she received a 'vision' of Jenna and Alaric feeding Dahlia information about our plans to keep Hope safe. I was naturally suspicious of the convenient timing of her vision, considering I had just told her that I would be seeking out a witch to keep an eye on her. Then I came to this village and watched your friends. When they abruptly left their cabin and went deep into the swamp, I followed them." He rubbed his face tiredly. "They discussed the deal they had made with Dahlia. Dahlia had apparently offered them wealth and power in exchange for delivering Hope. They desperately wanted Alaric to be the alpha pack leader."

Caroline shook her head fiercely, "No! They weren't like that! I would have known if they were plotting something."

"Sweetheart," Klaus began hesitantly, but Caroline brutally cut him off.

"Don't you dare call me that!"

"Very well. Caroline, you heard your godson. You know he wouldn't lie about something like this," Klaus quietly stated. "You are fiercely protective of him, and I imagine you are prepared to do any number of things to keep him safe. I feel the same way about my daughter. _I_ was protecting my child just as _you_ would protect that boy as though he was yours."

The shadows prevented her from gauging the sincerity reflected in his eyes, but his tone seemed genuine. Caroline realized she needed to stick to the facts to make it through this painful exchange. "You killed my friends. Whom you didn't know were my friends because we had yet to meet. However, that knowledge would not have prevented you from murdering them because they betrayed you by plotting with your enemy to steal your child."

"Yes," Klaus confirmed with a seemingly heavy heart.

Caroline stepped further away from him, needing the physical distance to match the emotional distance she felt, "Even if I can begin processing the weight of your crimes versus their betrayal of the pack and their inconceivable decision to put a baby in harm's way, I don't know that I can move past what you did following that."

His obvious confusion was as baffling as it was enraging. "Seriously!" She waved her arms in frustration, barely keeping her powers in check. "You lied to me, Klaus! Once you figured out that the friends I spoke of was the couple you killed, you should have told me! Not only that, you tried to comfort me and like a pathetic simpleton, I brought you to their funeral!" She willed away the hot, angry tears that were forming at the corners of her eyes. "I gave my trust to you far too freely and I cannot afford any more mistakes where you're concerned."

The finality of her tone seemed to sap whatever fire was left within his being. As he started to walk away, he glanced back and softly proclaimed, "The old woman was right, you know. You would have made a fine wolf."

After he flashed away, Caroline stayed under the branches of the weeping willow, staring at the churning water. When she returned to the village, she performed the rededication ritual and the pack fell in line at Jackson's behest. She detected no deceit within the pack leader, but now that she had been fooled by those she had allowed close to her, she felt uncertain and afraid; dreadful feelings that had no place within her. She wanted to lash out, or at the very least, hide herself away until she could regain some semblance of control, but Remy had asked her to stay with him that night, so she gladly did.

The next day, she was weeding her garden in the backyard and singing her tormented heart out to Fiona Apple:

"Oh, you creep up like the clouds  
And you set my soul at ease  
Then you let your love abound  
And you bring me to my knees  
Oh, it's evil, babe, the way you let  
Your grace enrapture me  
When will you know I'd be insane  
To ever let that dirty game recapture me."

Just as she was winding up her voice to belt out the mournful chorus, she heard knocking at her gate. Curious, she walked across her backyard, tugging off her purple gardening gloves. When she opened the gate, she was surprised to see Rebekah Mikaelson standing there with a knowing smile, a chubby baby resting on her hip. "Rebekah, what — what are you doing here?" Caroline hurriedly pulled her inside the yard, firmly locking the gate shut behind her. She quickly scanned both Rebekah and Hope, her blue eyes filled with worry. "What's wrong? Has Hope's location been compromised? Is that why you've brought her here?" She anxiously started mentally cataloguing the ingredients she had on hand to perform protection rituals and barriers.

Rebekah's gentle laughter caught her off guard. "Nothing of the sort; calm yourself, Caroline." Her warm brown eyes registered deep appreciation at Caroline's obvious concern.

Caroline relaxed slightly, relieved but still on high alert as to Rebekah's true purpose. She led her to the white deck overlooking the yard and they sat on her green-striped chairs. "With everything that's happened lately, I'm on edge, and I didn't think you would bring Hope to me on a whim, so I naturally assumed something was wrong."

Rebekah nodded, cradling Hope in her lap. "You're right, of course. I'm here because of Klaus." She watched with interest how Caroline's pale cheek twitched and her troubled eyes became downcast. "He surprisingly confessed everything to me and while I disagree with his disrespectful actions toward you, I also understand that he was protecting his family by eliminating a threat. We always protect our own."

Caroline tried to keep her voice steady. "Family is essential; but my friends _are_ my family." Caroline corrected herself, "At least I thought Jenna and Alaric _were_ my family. But now I learn of their betrayal to their pack and their actions could have put my godson in terrible danger. Not to mention the fact that they acted selfishly despite the fact that an innocent child was at risk." She shook her head sadly. "It's just a lot to process, especially with what happened with…" She trailed off, not anxious to discuss Klaus with his sister, who would likely parrot back everything she said to him later on.

"With Klaus, you mean," Rebekah asked gently.

Caroline nodded. "Yes," she said hoarsely. Despite the fact that she had just told herself she was not discussing her issues with Klaus, she added, "He lied to me, Rebekah. From the moment he knew who Jenna and Alaric were to me, he should have told me."

"And would you have given him a chance to explain?" Rebekah leaned forward, staring deeply into Caroline's troubled gaze as she sought her answers. "Would you have accepted his motivations as the truth without your godson's confession?"

Caroline bit her lip, unsure of the heaviness she felt in her heart was caused by Klaus' lies or her supposed friends'. "I don't know. I just…don't," she finished helplessly.

Rebekah nodded in agreement and gestured to the baby. "You know, only a select few individuals are allowed around Hope. As you can imagine, our family is quite distrustful, and with good reason. However, Klaus asked me to introduce you to Hope today, to show you his complete faith in you." She cocked an eyebrow, studying Caroline's shocked reaction. "It's a privilege few are given, including Freya," she grinned, her eyes lighting up mischievously.

Caroline was stunned. The fact that Klaus trusted her to be around his daughter was astounding. Yes, they had shared a great deal in a short amount of time, but she had been so focused on her perception of his betrayal, it hadn't occurred to her that the feelings he had displayed for her had been anything more than a clever ploy to keep her loyal to his cause. While it was possible that this could be a new attempt to do just that, she doubted that he would be willing to expose his daughter to potential danger just to win her loyalty or affections.

Furthermore, she doubted that Rebekah would have gone along with any plan that involved dangling her niece like bait. Caroline chuckled as she processed everything Rebekah had revealed and said, "Please tell me I get to be present when you tell Freya."

"There's the smile I was looking for," Rebekah said as she leaned back in her chair. "I may not know you that well, Caroline, but I can tell that you are normally one of those irritatingly cheerful people that spend all your bloody time prancing about the city like a sparkling little pixie grinning like an absolute lunatic."

Caroline snorted. "Perhaps you Mikaelsons just bring out my cheerful side. You clearly have that effect on each other."

Rebekah laughed loudly, her black curls fanning around her shoulders. "Oh yes, between the unlimited daggering, suitor murdering, not to mention my now thrice-deceased mother stuffing me in a random human's body, yes, we're a perfectly lovely family."

"It's definitely unsettling how your family addresses conflict," Caroline ventured, her heart growing heavy as thoughts of Klaus' lies returned.

"Is that why you're here singing along to depressing music while ripping out grass by its roots," Rebekah asked dryly.

Caroline sniffed, crossing her arms in front of her. "It's not depressing music. It's angry white woman music; the only musical genre you can rely upon when there's an immortal, sociopathic asshat in your life." She shook her head sadly, "I heard about you being daggered for most of this past century. You really missed out on a marvelous musical revolution for women — the '90s gave us so much — Fiona Apple, Alanis Morrisette, Tori Amos…" She sighed, "Unfortunately, it was a turbulent time for men's fashion. In particular, men's jeans in the '90s were simply tragic."

Rebekah smiled, clearly enjoying the effortless camaraderie between the two. "You're not what I expected."

"Let me guess — you were threatened by the rumors of my power so you went out of your way to make me feel uncomfortable and unworthy by calling me derogatory names like 'peasant' and insulting my belief system? Oh wait — wrong vitch," Caroline snorted.

Rebekah looked at her in confusion, "Vitch?"

"You know, because you guys are Vikings and witches?" She shrugged, laughing. "It's just something my friend Bonnie came up with one day."

Rebekah sniffed haughtily, "Yes, _Bonnie Bennet_."

"I love how you say it that way like she's lying about her actual name." Caroline tilted her head, examining her companion closely, who suddenly seemed intent upon hiding her face behind Hope's wriggling body. "Seriously?" Caroline shook her head in disbelief. "This is about man-whore Marcel?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rebekah mumbled, embarrassed.

Caroline sighed, exasperated. "You guys should work out all this tension with one big, sloppy group bang. You, Bonnie, twit bartender, and man-whore Marcel. Plus, if you girls wear him out and he's feeling peckish, perhaps he'll drain the twit bartender."

Rebekah grimaced and said flatly, "That's the most pathetic, degrading idea I've ever heard."

"Really? I should make you watch _Dance Moms_ then," Caroline grinned.

Rebekah started laughing as she gave more thought to Caroline's suggestion. "Your vulgarity is both refreshing and appalling. But I'm not entirely opposed to Marcel draining that little alcohol-slinging twit dry. Do you know she had the audacity to tell me after I got stuck in this body that perhaps I was enslaved in this shell because of my own 'deep-rooted desire to reconnect with my humanity' and that I secretly 'craved the helplessness of being a victim,'" she mused.

Caroline smiled. "You should tell her that you suspect she is studying to be a shrink based on her deep-rooted desire to reconnect with a brain. Too bad it's hers."

They both laughed over that and Caroline invited Rebekah inside so that they could discuss more pressing matters under the cover of the secure protection spells within her Victorian home. As they sat around the butcher block island in Caroline's kitchen, she pulled out a spiral notebook full of her sloppy shorthand writing. "So I've been consulting with my group and they gave me some good ideas for the safe houses." She rifled through her notes, running her pointer finger down the pages until she found the underlined passages. "I created a spell that will give the illusion of an infinite number of safe houses in which Hope will appear to be residing."

"That's bloody brilliant!" Rebekah smiled broadly. "You really live up to your reputation. No wonder Klaus trusts in you."

Caroline shrugged, embarrassed. "I wouldn't believe _everything_ you hear about me. For instance, I didn't cause the housing market to crash. That was actually a disgruntled warlock-turned-realtor who had been coveting this pristine mansion in the Garden District and the sellers refused to negotiate." She rolled her eyes, "Warlocks — such flighty, fickle creatures."

Rebekah looked over Caroline's shoulder as she read some of her notes. Curious, she asked, "What are the ingredients you'll need?"

Biting her lip nervously, Caroline explained. "Well, I'll need a bit of Hope's blood, which, understandably, your family won't like, but it's the only way I'll be able to successfully duplicate the baby's essence to make it seem as though she's in each safe house. Also, you should know that as the originator of this spell, I will be privy to all of the safe house locations — including the actual ones that Klaus has set up for Hope — not just the imaginary ones the spell will create."

Rebekah smiled knowingly. "Don't let the young girl's body fool you; it's still me in here and I've learned a thing or two about spell-casting in my time, Caroline. I explained to Klaus before I left this evening that you would likely need Hope's blood and access to all of our safe houses." She squeezed her arm encouragingly, "He readily agreed. He knows that the only way he'll ever get you to trust him again is by demonstrating how he's willing to trust you with what matters most to him."

Caroline shook her head in frustration, "I'm not ready to talk about that yet." She smiled at Hope who was babbling happily as she looked around the kitchen. "Let's just focus on what we came here to do." She pulled out a creased and torn map of Louisiana and handed Rebekah a glass jar of black cumin seeds. "Pour a bunch of those seeds into your palm and think of the addresses for the safe houses. Then, toss the seeds onto the map and each seed will cling to a location."

While Rebekah performed that task, Caroline glanced at the red brick fireplace and ignited the yew tree bark and aconite roots. She went to the refrigerator and set out an opened champagne bottle and a glass pitcher that was filled to the brim with what appeared to be blood.

After adding a large pink and cream conch shell to the odd assortment of ingredients, she reluctantly walked back to the fireplace. With a heavy sigh, she knelt beside the fireplace hearth and leaned over to the back corner where she carefully worked loose two of the red bricks. Setting them aside, she reached into the hollow space and pulled out a battered tin box.

Rebekah called out, "Aren't you concerned about keeping your hiding places a secret from me?"

Caroline blew off some of the dust that had accumulated. "Not anymore," she said simply.

Rebekah seemed taken aback by her response, and softly stroked Hope's cheek to distract herself. She eyed the small box curiously. "What's in there?"

Grimly, Caroline flipped open the lid and held it out so Rebekah could view the contents. "An object that can channel enough power to allow me to perform this ritual alone. I didn't want any more people privy to the safe house locations than absolutely necessary."

Confused, Rebekah stared at the small chunk of what appeared to be cracked black rubber. "What is that supposed to be?"

"It's a piece of the Superdome's roof that was torn off by Hurricane Katrina." Caroline's fingers twitched as though she was hesitant to touch it. "There was so much suffering and damage caused by that storm; the chaos that ensued seeped into its environment, permanently staining everything it touched, and creating objects with extraordinary channeling abilities," she whispered. "I've never witnessed anything else quite like it. When the storm hit, my mentor, Abby, and I tried to help as many as we could, but then we learned of a powerful shaman attempting to use the storm for his own dark purposes."

Her blue eyes darkened with fury as she recalled how Abby had sought out the shaman on her own, trying to prevent him from harnessing the storm's power to open a door to the spirit world to set loose malevolent forces. By the time Caroline had arrived, Abby had been weakened from the battle with the shaman, and she hugged Caroline fiercely before bidding her farewell. Then, Abby did the unthinkable and threw herself at the shaman, taking him into the spirit world with her and sealing the portal. She shook her head and said lowly, "Abby sacrificed herself to ensure this world's survival. There was nothing I could do."

She grabbed the piece of debris and threw it into the fire and as the black smoke wafted into the kitchen threatening to choke them, Caroline waved her arms and sent the smoke through the chimney. She softly chanted as she reached out to Loa Rada across the spirit plane, asking for his guidance and strength as she channeled the sovereign of the sea, Loa Agwe. She threw the pitcher of blood into the roaring flames, the shattering glass causing Hope to cry out. Caroline's brow furrowed as she registered the baby's fear, but she needed to remain focused if the ritual was to be successful. She could hear Rebekah comforting her with soft noises.

Caroline grabbed the conch shell and blew into it near the fire, an unearthly pitch emitting from it that sent chills down her spine as she called forth the loa sea spirit. Grabbing the ceremonial steel blade, she ripped a gash across both of her arms and tilted her ruined flesh toward the flames, allowing her blood to drip down, sizzling as it danced atop the ashes of the ritual ingredients. She suddenly turned her back to the fire and stalked across the kitchen to the island where Rebekah was clutching Hope tighter than necessary. Fear flickered across her face as she eyed the knife in Caroline's hand warily.

"It has to be done. You know this to be true," she reminded Rebekah in a deep voice resonating with the powerful spirits she channeled.

Lips pulled back into a grimace, Rebekah held out one of Hope's fists and Caroline delicately touched the pointed tip to Hope's palm, allowing a single drop to spill. As Rebekah comforted the wailing baby, Caroline smeared the drop of Hope's blood between both of her palms and then violently slammed them on top of the map. The entire house rattled as a powerful energy flew out of her body and circled the map before streaking out of the house, zeroing in on the safe house destinations.

Coming out of her trance, Caroline grabbed a kitchen towel and cleaned up her blood-splattered arms and hands. She glanced over at the fire and smugly noted that the fireplace appeared untouched, with only a faint trace of smoke lingering in the air. "That may be the best part of practicing voodoo. It's a self-cleaning belief system."

Rebekah grinned. "That was quite an impressive feat. I fear I'm far too morbid not to ask; whose blood was in the pitcher," Rebekah asked after Hope had grown quiet once more.

"The blood of two white sheep. Some loas are quite particular." Caroline stood up and fetched two champagne flutes from the cabinets. She poured generously from the champagne bottle and handed one to Rebekah. "Speaking of which, drink up. This particular loa rarely stays for a drink, but he does seem to appreciate the gesture." She clinked her flute against Rebekah's, winking.

Rebekah sipped her drink and said, "Sheep? So you have two sheep carcasses rotting away in your basement now?" She glanced around the room uncertainly, as though trying to find the bodies.

Caroline laughed, "Don't be ridiculous. This house doesn't have a basement. I like to hide the bodies in my attic." She rolled her eyes at Rebekah's stunned face. "Will you relax? I'm kidding. Some of my followers came over earlier today and we butchered the sheep. I harvested the blood and I sent them on their way with the carcasses. I suspect they are having beautifully grilled mutton as we speak." She took another drink and added, "It can be a little tough but Majel and Sonny are wicked foodie geniuses that somehow make the meat succulent and full of these aromatic spices that make your taste buds weep."

"That does sound good," Rebekah began cautiously. "I guess I just thought that…"

"You thought that we just sacrificed the animals and threw away their bodies when we were done, right?" Caroline shrugged her shoulders. "It's a common misconception. We use the entire animal — I'm not a fan of waste. The way I grew up, I was taught to appreciate every scrap I could get, and I won't ever let that change."

Caroline glanced over at Hope, who seemed to be eying her curiously now that she had put away the scary-looking knife. "Speaking of growing up," she said to Hope gently, "Your family is doing everything they can to ensure you get to grow up safe and protected. Sure, you appreciate that now, but it's going to sting like a bitch when you want to start dating," she playfully tapped the end of Hope's nose.

Without warning, Caroline jerked back from the baby, falling off of her kitchen chair and onto the floor where she stayed there, gathering her shattered thoughts. Dark images raced through her mind and her brain fought valiantly to catch up as she processed what the overwhelming feeling of dread meant.

Rebekah raced to the other side of the island with Hope clutched tightly, calling out, "What is it? What did you see?"

Finally, Caroline was able to sit up properly. She leaned against her cabinets, breathing hard. She looked into Rebekah's frightened eyes and tried to deliver the news with a sense of calm she was far from possessing. "Sometimes when I touch people, I get these images about them." She nodded in Hope's direction. "I just learned that Dahlia is the reason Hope was conceived."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Warning: Mature, squishy sexual content. I know it's been a bit of a dry spell, people; thanks for hanging on.

Caroline nervously entered Klaus' mansion with Rebekah at her side, whose worried brown eyes darted back and forth, refusing to look at Caroline. They had deposited Hope at one of the safe house locations with Haley and an army of hybrid guards, not wanting to expose the child to the epic meltdown that Klaus would likely have once he heard what Caroline had to say. Under different circumstances, Caroline would have felt the awkwardness of meeting Haley for the first time; after all, she was privy to the sleazy things the werewolf had done to break up a couple of her friends' relationships. Plus, the fact that Caroline was involved with Klaus now. Or was she still? She wasn't sure what their relationship status was at this point. Too much had happened in such a short amount of time; she hadn't been able to process how she felt yet. She did know that her heart ached at the thought of having to tell Klaus what she knew.

Because Caroline was overwhelmed by the task before her, she barely even glanced at Haley when Rebekah handed Hope to her. Haley had seemed taken aback that Caroline was aware of the safe house's location, but she nodded politely and thanked them both as though understanding that there was more going on than either woman had time to explain at the moment.

Caroline followed Rebekah across the marble foyer, their heels sending sharp echoes throughout the mansion. They stepped inside the parlor room and Caroline gingerly sat on a plush wingback chair, tracing her fingers through the ivory and gold threads. Rebekah wordlessly handed her a crystal tumbler filled to the brim with bourbon. The women sat in silence, slowly sipping the golden, sweet-burning liquid.

"Caroline, what a pleasant surprise," Klaus called out, suddenly standing before her. His gray eyes reflected a cautious optimism that broke Caroline's heart. "I — I didn't think I would see you so soon." His accent helped to smooth over his stuttered words, but Caroline could sense his nervous energy and the unspoken questions on the tip of his tongue.

"Where is Hope?" Freya's cold, grating voice filled the room as she entered with Elijah, who was pressing his lips together in a thin line of disapproval at his sister's rudeness.

Rebekah glared at Freya's accusing tone. "We took her to one of the safe houses. She's fine."

Freya's dark eyes narrowed. " _We_? So not only did you expose Hope to this stranger, you also showed her one of the safe house locations?"

Elijah poured a drink and tried to placate his sister. "Freya, calm yourself. Caroline is hardly a stranger. She's shown nothing but kindness to our family since we've met her. Furthermore, she has built an honorable reputation in this community as a selfless individual who uses her considerable powers to help those in need — especially children."

Caroline blushed at Elijah's high praise and refused to meet the heated looks that Klaus kept sending her way. "Freya, I'm not a threat to your family. We need to focus on the actual danger." She took a hesitant sip of the bourbon. "The good news is that thanks to Rebekah's impromptu visit with Hope this evening, I was finally able to create a spell that multiplied the appearance of safe house locations." She smiled briefly, "The ritual was a success; if Dahlia tries to locate Hope now, she'll be led to an infinite number of locations that all possess Hope's essence."

Freya's dark eyes narrowed as she managed to look both impressed and annoyed by Caroline's power. "Had you shown this level of magical prowess during our disastrous meeting, perhaps we would have a viable spell to locate Dahlia."

"Enough, Freya," Klaus said sharply.

Rebekah snorted derisively in Freya's direction. "You're merely lashing out at Caroline because she's been given Klaus' unequivocal trust while you're still waiting in the background, nervously wondering if Klaus has fashioned a dagger with your name on it." She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "I suppose that alone makes you one of us." She gave an almost Klaus-like smirk. "However, if you ask me, you're just in desperate need of a good shagging."

Caroline cut off Freya's angry retort with a shout, "Enough! This isn't why we're here. Rebekah, I heartily agree that Freya is likely as dry as the Sahara and needs to get laid, but introduce her to man-whore Marcel later." She threw back the rest of her drink and stood up shakily from the chair. "Look, something else happened tonight besides the ritual being a success."

Klaus' eyes narrowed in concern. He took a step closer to Caroline, but sensing her hesitation, refrained from taking her hand. "What happened, sweetheart?"

She sighed, feeling the weight of the words on her tongue. "Sometimes when I touch someone I receive these images about them. When I touched Hope tonight, I saw a dark, shadowy figure completing a complicated fertility ritual. She was muttering to herself about how 'the time had come' because Klaus had 'broken his curse' and now that he was a hybrid, she could 'make him fertile with a werewolf' and she would finally have another 'first-born Mikaelson as she had been promised'." Caroline shrugged helplessly. "It seems like Dahlia has been watching Klaus ever since he became a vampire and his werewolf side had been bound. She was simply biding her time until he broke his curse so she could perform a fertility ritual to allow him to father offspring with a werewolf."

The silence was deafening in the parlor. Rebekah stood up and poured another drink, walking over to the sleek black piano in the corner. Impressively, she didn't flinch when Klaus violently threw his glass against the burgundy wall. "All this time, my fate was never my own! Esther, Mikael, now Dahlia, all separately plotting against me with their own foul agendas." His eyes became golden as he screamed, "I will have Dahlia's blood just as I had Esther and Mikael's!"

"Niklaus," Elijah began, taking on the impossible task of calming down the raging hybrid. Before he could continue reasoning with his brother, Freya instinctively moved closer to Elijah, which unfortunately garnered Klaus' attention.

He stalked toward Freya like a hungry predator. "You, dear sister, must explain yourself. When you first came to us, a lost little waif, pleading your case, you swore you had revealed all that you knew of our dear Aunt Dahlia." His arm shot out, powerful muscles clenching as he gripped her by the throat. "It seems that you kept some secrets to yourself. How much longer were you to keep up this charade?" His grip tightened around the slender column of her throat. "Are you lingering here, waiting for one of us to slip up and reveal Hope's location so that you can deliver her to Dahlia? Tell me!"

Elijah and Rebekah ran to Klaus and Freya, trying in vain to pull him away. Freya trembled against him, clearly trying to perform magic, but she seemed to be too frightened to properly protect herself.

The veins under Klaus' glowing eyes appeared as a new, terrible thought occurred to him. "Haley's a part of this! She was far too convenient not to be." His fangs appeared as he hissed at Freya's wide, terrified eyes. "You're all plotting together, aren't you? What did it take for you to win over the werewolf, hmm? A crown, perhaps? Are the three of you planning on ruling my kingdom together after you sacrifice my child? Answer me!"

Freya clutched at his fist and gasped weakly, "No! I was merely Dahlia's slave; I was never privy to a secret such as this!"

Caroline shouted, "Stop it! My vision revealed that Dahlia was working alone. Neither Freya nor Haley are to blame for this terrible situation!" She debated using her powers to push Klaus away from Freya, but she could see his arm relax as he slowly released her. Caroline inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't relish using her power to force submission; but she was somewhat comforted by the knowledge that if needed, it was there.

"Get out," Klaus growled lowly. He glanced up; the sight of everyone standing there appeared to anger him further. "All of you — get out!" He pushed Freya away from him and suddenly turned to throw the wingback chair against the French doors with a resounding crash. The glass panes parted like water under his powerful force.

Elijah's concerned gaze fell onto Caroline who was at the opposite end of the room, fixedly staring at the shattered glass. She met his gaze knowingly and nodded. Their silent communication complete, his furrowed brow smoothed and he took Rebekah and Freya by the hand before speeding them away to safety.

Klaus continued yelling and throwing furniture, toppling over the heavy mahogany hutch filled with delicate blue and white china, before turning his attention to the gleaming piano. He began ferociously punching its side before easily snapping off the legs and hurling them through the bay window. He stepped back, huffing slightly as the piano body fell to the floor in a cacophonous display of slain ivory and ruined Rosewood.

"Are you quite done," Caroline called out in exasperation. "Your toddler-worthy tantrum would embarrass a cast member from _Real Housewives_."

"I told you to get out, Caroline!" Klaus glared at her, fangs still unsheathed.

She crossed her arms in front of her, taking in the destruction with a sneer. "Do you realize you just caused tens of thousands of dollars' worth of damage? Do you have any idea what kind of difference that money would make for the families of my students?"

The shrillness of her voice seemed to spark a small amount of guilt within Klaus, but he quickly masked his vulnerability once more with outrage. "How dare you come into _my_ home and judge me. You have no right to dictate my actions!"

"I have every right! I know you, and you are better than this!" She gestured wildly around the room, "Not only that, but you _want_ to be better than this!" She stepped closer to him, her heart pounding as she lowered her voice, "You told me yourself you wanted to be better for me." She took a shaky breath, conscious of how vulnerable she sounded as she revealed, "And I believe you."

The surprise that registered across his cold, angry face was heartbreaking. Suddenly, he was in front of her, gripping her upper arms tightly as he breathed in her scent. Staring deeply into her eyes, he brokenly whispered, "Thank you."

Before she could react, his lips ferociously descended upon hers, taking what he craved with a fierce determination. She could feel the air displaced around their bodies as he hurtled them across the room, and suddenly they were stretched across the ruined piano. He grabbed one of her slim legs roughly and molded it around his waist, urging her with his body to pull him closer to her warmth. He slid his hand up the middle of her red peasant blouse, wadding the fabric in his palm before ripping it away completely.

Caroline felt the ridges and splinters of the buckled wood dig into her back, but it became nothing more than an inconsequential pinch as Klaus released his curved fangs once more and began to trace the outline of her clit with his sharp points. She shuddered as she felt the knifelike pleasure searing home through the thin fabric of her leggings. He increased the sweet pressure, undoubtedly smelling the intense buildup of her arousal.

As she groaned out his name, he dipped a fang down and quickly sliced through the crotch of her pants, moaning when he spied her thong. "How shall I make you come first, love," he mused, smiling wickedly. "On the tip of my tongue or the point of my fang?"

Caroline rubbed lazy circles across his denim-clad erection, and staring lustily into his gray eyes, she purred, "Both. Make it hurt." She licked her lips slowly. "And then make it sweet."

Releasing an incoherent growl, Klaus bent to his task, breaking the sides of her thong with his sharp teeth and then diving toward her exposed dripping center. He pressed a fang against her clit, poking it, prodding it over and over again and she carefully pushed against that dangerous pressure, needing him to rip her orgasm from her. One more firm tap of his fang and she felt her desire flood through her, making her whimper with relief.

"Easy love," Klaus soothed. "Give it all to me." He retracted his fangs and began taking long, luxurious licks of Caroline's soaked folds, savoring the intoxicating flavor of her pleasure. He took his time, slowly running his wide tongue through her folds and inner passages, groaning in ecstasy as he tasted everything she had to give.

Caroline yanked at his curls and whispered seductively, "Now that I'm clean, make me dirty again." She grasped his pulsing bulge, admiring his obvious need for her. She quickly unzipped his jeans and ran her hands up and down his stiff length.

"As the lady commands," he smirked, yanking her thighs further apart and teasing her warm center with the tip of his erection. He eased into her slowly, clearly relishing in the way she squeezed his cock. As he fully sheathed himself within her, he took a nipple in his mouth, tugging at it as he suckled, making her moan.

She could feel another orgasm was with her grasp as he rolled his hips into hers, creating the intense friction that set her skin ablaze. She sank her nails into his firm ass, yanking him into her and matching his thrusts that had suddenly become wild and harsh as he reached his own ecstasy. His eyes flashed gold as he stilled within her, growling her name.

Klaus gently rolled off of her, landing next to her on top of the ruined piano, breathing heavily. "Sweetheart, I do believe I have experienced more firsts with you than anyone else on this planet."

Caroline nodded sagely. "So, you're telling me I took your V card and Haley's claiming immaculate conception?"

Klaus huffed angrily, glaring at the ceiling with her.

"What? Too soon?" Caroline sighed. "I know what you meant, Klaus." She gently squeezed his hand as she moved her head to the side to gaze at his tense profile. "The moments we've shared have meant a great deal to me as well." Her breath caught when his stormy eyes met hers. "I'm not sure what these feelings are, but when I'm around you, the intensity of our touches, it's almost too much to bear."

Klaus squeezed her hand tightly as he replied, "Connection. Kinship." He smiled a rare, genuine smile at her. "From the moment I met you, I knew you would change everything. The way you fiercely protected your people and your willingness to battle me at every turn. Your fearlessness. Your sensuality. You. Just you." He leaned forward and brushed his lips softly against hers before retreating a few inches to gauge her reaction.

She shuddered under his intense gaze. "That may be the most beautiful thing anyone has ever told me. And I believe it to be true. My body, my heart, my everything aches for your presence and I cannot imagine you not being a part of my life." She ducked her head, carefully weighing her words. Gently she spoke, "My heart broke when I learned about what you had done to Jenna and Alaric. I felt used and betrayed and while now I know you had your reasons, I need you to understand why I had to push you away."

His troubled eyes, full of regret, anxiously sought hers. He kissed her hand and with a soft voice filled with emotion, he said, "I've operated as a single entity for so long, it's difficult for me to consider any other way of being. Once I knew who Jenna and Alaric were to you, I felt a unique fear I couldn't quite name. Now I understand that it was sheer panic at the thought of what it could cost me once you learned the truth." He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. "I realized I couldn't lose you, so I kept the truth from you, hoping you would never find out."

Caroline shook her head. "Klaus, it's okay to be unsure and afraid. We need to be able to talk about things. We need to be able to trust each other if this is going to work." She smiled weakly. "I know we both have centuries' worth of baggage to work through, but I need you to be willing to meet me half-way here. Can you do that?"

He kissed her again, with all the feelings he couldn't quite bring himself to share. As he broke away, he firmly vowed, "Yes. I know it won't be perfect, but if you'll be patient with me, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to have you by my side."

Caroline beamed at him, her infectious smile giving her a childlike innocence that was endearing to the hybrid. She nestled into his side and they continued staring at the ceiling while stretched out on the broken piano. She mumbled hesitantly, "We should probably talk about what happened tonight. What my vision revealed about Dahlia."

Klaus stiffened, and said woodenly, "I don't know what there is to say. I foolishly didn't pursue the circumstances further and had blindly accepted the New Orleans witches' explanation that Hope was conceived because of 'nature's loophole'." He shook his head. "I should have known it was rubbish."

"Hey," Caroline said gently, "Don't do that. I know this came as a shock and I would give anything for it not to be true. I can only imagine how upset you must feel, knowing that Dahlia manipulated the chain of events for her own selfish purposes." She gazed at him steadily and fiercely vowed, "We will protect your daughter and stop Dahlia together."

Klaus returned her gaze and gratefully replied, "I know we will. With you by my side, how could we fail?"

"Precisely. Now that that's sorted, can I _please_ trot out the _Rosemary's Baby_ jokes I've been sitting on all night?" Caroline winked at him impishly. "I don't think Haley has the bone structure to pull off a Mia Farrow haircut." She ruffled his still-damp curls and teased, "You might though. You have cheekbones for daaaaays."

Klaus huffed in aggravation.

"What? Too soon?"

"Yes, love, too soon," Klaus muttered.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Author's note: Thank you all for your support of my work! I received two Klaroline award nominations in the following categories - Best OT3 Fiction - _An Experiment_ and Best Underrated Fiction - _Conjuring a Heart._ It means a great deal to me that you have enjoyed my work as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

" _Nothing that is worth knowing can be taught."_

— Oscar Wilde

"It's not even a school day and you dragged me to a school? We could have just met for lunch at the Riverwalk, Caroline," Davina huffed impatiently.

Caroline rolled her eyes and unfolded the large quilt. She directed the impatient teenager to help her set it down, smoothing out the edges. She had pushed her desk along the wall with some of the children's work tables to make room for their picnic. "You can go to the Riverwalk with your friends any time, Davina. In fact, $20 says you already have plans to meet Josh there this evening."

"No, we don't," Davina protested stubbornly.

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Sighing dramatically, Davina reached into her pocket and pulled out a wadded $20, begrudgingly slamming it onto the quilt in between them. "You think you know everything, don't you," she grumbled.

Caroline chuckled and inched the money back over to Davina. "Okay, I may have cheated on that one. Josh texted me earlier to see if Bonnie and I wanted to meet you guys there for dinner."

Davina stuffed the money back in her pocket and looked around the greenhouse impatiently. "So why'd you insist on bringing me here? We usually do my Hogwarts gig at your place."

Caroline smiled at the young girl and set a wicker picnic basket in between them. "First of all, quit implying I look like Michael Gambon or I'll curse you with PMS 24/7 _and_ I'll make you think chocolate tastes like boiled celery," she threatened mockingly. "Second, we've reached a crucial crossroads with my mentoring of your magic, Davina. The wisdom I will impart today will have ramifications that I believe will echo throughout the years of our friendship going forward." She winked at Davina, trying to dispel the serious undertones of her words. "I cannot possibly expect either of us to tackle this troublesome task on empty stomachs."

Davina maintained her frown, obviously concerned with what Caroline had to tell her. Her worries were suspended, however, when she spied the massive oyster po'boys wrapped in grease-spotted butcher paper and quickly ripped into one. "Oh my god! Bonnie's fried oysters are the best," she mumbled with her mouth full, stuffing a stray bite back in that had almost dropped to the quilt.

Caroline nodded in agreement, needing both hands to hang onto the crusty, fresh-baked French bread that had been heavily seasoned with smoked Spanish paprika, garlic and cayenne. As she savored the crunchy, beer-battered oysters, she rooted around in the picnic basket and pulled out a container with a flourish. She handed Davina a fork and commanded, "You have to save room for this. Bonnie's been experimenting with new cornbread recipes, and I brought her over a bunch of jalapenos from my garden last night."

Curious, Davina took a bite and immediately closed her eyes. "Yum! And is that shrimp?"

"Yup. She had some leftover jerk marinade and sautéed the shrimp in it before folding them into the cornbread batter. Genius, right?" Caroline let the warm, buttery grainy goodness melt on her tongue a bit. "I swear, Emeril is so lucky he made a deal with Bonnie instead of me. Cooking spells are soooo much better when you can actually cook." Caroline's blue eyes widened when she realized what she said. "Aw shit," she said inelegantly.

Davina's dark eyes grew wide. "Are you for real? Bonnie's the reason Emeril's, you know, _Emeril_?" She happily went back to eating her sandwich and added, "Magic's so awesome."

"I wasn't supposed to talk about that. A witch's deals are hers to share as she chooses." Caroline shook her head slightly. "Although I suppose one secret to get me warmed up for the next is one way to go about this."

"You brought me here to tell me something important," Davina stated, an oddly concerned tone finding its way through her normally defiant demeanor.

"Yes, that is our purpose today." She noted that Davina had put aside her lunch. "There's syrup cake if you'd like dessert," she offered, clearly wanting to delay the inevitable just a bit longer. At Davina's small head shake, Caroline put the food back in its basket and set it on her desk. She opened one of her desk drawers and pulled out a small oval locket. The silver glinted in the sunlight, and Caroline felt a slight ache in her heart as she thought of Abby. She cleared her throat and explained, "This locket was given to me by Abby long ago when I was about your age."

Davina's voice became a whisper. "Abby was the one who took you in and taught you about voodoo, right?"

Caroline smiled as she thought of her greatest teacher and friend. "She did more than that. She saved me in all the ways a person can be saved. It's why I've dedicated my life here to helping those who need it, the way that she helped me all those years ago."

"Like Marcel saved me," Davina nodded in understanding.

"Yes, like Marcel," Caroline agreed. "Marcel came to me and asked me to help you, to guide you while you learned more about your powers." Her eyes reflected the warmth she felt for the dark-haired girl, still so clearly lost in this harsh world. "I've grown to care a great deal about you, Davina. I view you as part of my family. This is why I want to give you one of my most treasured possessions. It's part of my history and I want to share it with you." As Caroline went to put the necklace around Davina's neck, the girl jerked away suddenly.

"I — I'm sorry, Caroline," Davina stuttered when she saw the hurt reflected in her mentor's eyes. "It's just I —"

"It's okay, Davina. I understand why you flinch away from me. It's because you're afraid that if I touch you, I might get a vision that would make me privy to your secrets." She kept her voice gentle, not wanting to alarm the girl any more than necessary. "But you don't need to worry about that, because I already know what you've been keeping from me."

Davina looked positively terrified as she trembled before Caroline. "You — you do," she asked shrilly.

"Of course. You've been frequenting the cemeteries with the sole purpose of trying to resurrect Kol." She shook her head sadly. "I understand, Davina, I swear I do. We've talked about this before, but I have to make you understand that it's too dangerous. What you're trying to do, bringing him back without his actual body violates natural law and forces you to seek out dark magics that you aren't ready to understand." She narrowed her eyes, knowing that she had to get through to Davina. "Immersing yourself in dark magics will haunt you in ways you can't begin to comprehend. It marks you, and you will live with it forever."

Davina stood suddenly, appearing both angry and frightened. "You don't understand, Caroline. I _have_ to do this! I need to do it for him!"

The fear in the teenager's voice broke Caroline's heart. She understood the pain that caused it and wished she could take it away. "But I do understand," she said lowly. "When Abby died, don't you think I considered the possibility? Her body was lost within the void of the supernatural plane. But surely it was not beyond my capabilities to procure her another body either by force or by design?"

She saw how Davina's eyes widened, for clearly she had not realized that Caroline had gone through a similar process while grieving the loss of a loved one. Caroline relived the feelings of hopelessness and despair along with the rage she could barely control. Without the discipline of centuries of Abby's teachings, she was quite sure the destruction she would have wrought in her grief would have been devastating.

With a faraway look in her eyes, Caroline continued, "I pondered the task of forcing an innocent soul from its body and prepare it to receive my mentor's spirit. I even gathered the disturbing ingredients — several of which had to be procured through despicable deeds — to create her a new vessel, one that she would be proud to call her own." She laughed darkly. "Proud? No — the last thing my sacred mentor, my mother figure, my reason for being here would be is _proud_ of what I nearly accomplished. She would have never forgiven me for turning my back on her teachings and embracing a path that would be filled with nothing but pain and wickedness. If I had continued down that dark road, when Abby was reawakened, she wouldn't even recognize the _thing_ I would have become."

Davina wiped away several tears that had trickled down during Caroline's impassioned speech. "So you didn't go through with the resurrection spell," she asked, her voice wavering.

"No, I couldn't. It would violate everything Abby stood for, everything that _I_ stand for. Turning my back on her teachings would be the same as turning my back on her," Caroline explained.

The girl hung her head, her dark hair falling in front of her face, hiding her tears. "Do you think Abby is ok where she is," she asked quietly.

Caroline smiled sadly. "How could she not be? She's Abby. She once challenged the loa spirit Agwe to an arm-wrestling match. The winner got the Gulf of Mexico." She smugly revealed, "She won. It turns out Agwe is _very_ ticklish."

Davina gave a watery laugh. "It sounds like she's more than fine then." She still refused to meet Caroline's eyes as she hesitantly asked, "Do you think Kol is ok wherever he is?"

"Yes, I do. Otherwise, he'd let you know." Caroline nodded encouragingly when Davina's head snapped up to look at her. "Loved ones find a way to communicate with us when it's needed." She sighed, knowing she'd put it off long enough. "Davina, I needed to bring you here to my classroom because it harbors one of my greatest secrets. I speak of dark deeds and magics and the stain it leaves on your soul because I know of these things first-hand." She folded up the blanket and knelt on the tile floor. "What I'm about to reveal to you is something you must not share with others. It's a bond between the two of us."

Davina watched in awe as Caroline touched the floor and chanted, the air shimmering slightly as her magic worked its will. Suddenly, a rusty metal ring appeared. Caroline made no move to touch it, however. Instead she looked up at Davina and said wearily, "In 1856, I happened to attend a ball where I caught the attention of Lorenzo Perrault, New Orleans' mayor. He was a shameless flirt, but I found him charming. Lorenzo, or 'Enzo' as he told me to call him, asked me to dance."

She shook her head sadly, recalling the horrors that transpired that terrible night. "From the moment he touched my hand, I knew the kind of monster he was. If you live long enough in this world, you'll learn that the face most people show you is rarely their own. It's a construct, a fantasy cleverly crafted to accomplish their selfish agendas." She glanced at Davina, who was watching her with rapt attention. "This is why you have to be careful with whom you place your trust."

"What kind of monster was he," Davina asked, trembling slightly as she stared at the iron handle in the floor.

"The worst kind. The kind wrapped in a lovely package that contains nothing but rotting sin and a malevolent soul. I saw flashes of his dark deeds; the way he craved the painful cries of children. How he had tortured and killed so many, and would continue his vicious crimes unless I stopped him."

Caroline took a breath, recalling the loathing she felt when she learned of Lorenzo's true nature. "I could see that he was keeping children locked away in a hidden room at his estate. He caught me as I was rescuing them. I exhausted my powers fighting him while the children escaped." She bitterly shook her head. "My arrogance nearly cost those children their lives. It did cost me mine, albeit temporarily."

"I don't understand — you're the most powerful, immortal voodoo priestess in New Orleans, Caroline…" Davina trailed off uncertainly.

Caroline smiled sadly. "I am — now. But back then, while immortal, I wasn't nearly as strong. Also, immortality doesn't prevent you from feeling pain as you die."

Davina hesitantly asked, "What did Lorenzo do once he caught you?"

"He dragged me to the center of Jackson Square and burned me at the stake," Caroline bluntly replied. Her hard blue gaze softened when she saw Davina take an involuntary step back, staring at Caroline's exposed skin as though searching for evidence of the flames. "Another important lesson, Davina. You may think we live in a symbiotic supernatural hub where our powers are respected; that we are revered as special." Caroline's tone became harsh once more as she continued, "But remember that those powers can cause others to wish us harm out of fear or malevolent intent. Being special is a beautiful and terrible burden."

"What happened after you were burned," Davina questioned, nervously glancing at Caroline's hand that had been absentmindedly tracing the rusted metal ring in the floor.

"After Abby and her followers located my body and brought me back, I confronted Lorenzo." Caroline hesitated slightly before continuing her tale. "I was surprisingly calm and felt a stillness within myself that is difficult to describe. I had peered into his soul and saw nothing redeemable within him. If he had continued on his current path, countless children would have suffered. By _my_ hand he suffered. And by _my_ hand he suffers to this day." She grasped the handle and pulled, revealing a set of stairs that led to a hidden hallway below the greenhouse. "Come with me. You need to witness the cruelty I am capable of. I need you to see how I've marked myself."

Trembling, Davina followed Caroline down the creaking stairs and silently walked through the long corridor. When they came to the prisoner's room, Davina gasped when she saw the chained figure engulfed in flames. "Is that Lorenzo?"

"Yes," Caroline said, her face expressionless as she watched the tortured figure silently scream before them, "Lorenzo burned me for my supposed crimes. Now I burn him for his."

Davina struggled to look away from the horrific sight. "How — how long will he be like this?"

"Until I can see a fire without feeling the flames," Caroline coldly stated. She turned away from Lorenzo's haunting visage to gaze at the frightened girl. "This is just one of the countless prices you could pay by giving into dark paths. I deluded myself into believing I tortured this man as punishment for the unspeakable pain he inflicted upon the innocent. That was a lie. This wretched man continues to suffer because he made me suffer. And I've come to understand that I enjoy his suffering far more than I care to admit." Caroline took a breath, fervently hoping that Davina would finally understand the lesson she was summoned here to learn. "I have scarred my soul, dear child, and it's a fate I pray never falls upon you."

Visibly shaken, Davina wordlessly followed Caroline out of the hidden prison and back into the greenhouse. Still clutching the oval locket in her sweaty palm, she whispered, "I think I understand why you can't grant him peace. It's because you haven't made yours yet." She paused toward the door and rewarded Caroline with a small smile despite her damp eyes. "Some scars can fade, Caroline."

Following the world's most painful teachable moment, Caroline headed over to her gym on Canal Street to work off the resulting tension. After an hour-long kickboxing session, she was a sweaty, exhausted mess and just wanted to pour herself into her car and head home to a relaxing bubble bath. As she entered the parking lot, she was pleasantly surprised to see a grinning, sexy hybrid leaning against her red Miata.

"Given your penchant for maintaining balance and harmony with nature, love, I must confess that yoga would seem a more obvious choice," he called out, his dimpled grin causing her to melt into her sneakers.

She stopped in front of him, attempting to will herself to stop sweating so profusely. "I keep getting kicked out of Bonnie's yoga class for hysterical laughter." She shrugged as Klaus raised a questioning eyebrow. "The instructor's ridiculous suggestions are just sitting there, asking for judgment. She kept telling the class to 'relax the root of your tongue' and align your 'root chakra'. Bonnie swore to me the last time I made a scene that she was mortified beyond repair and could not show her face again. And this is coming from a woman whom I walked in on at the bakery having meringue sucked off of her toes by Marcel." She grimaced briefly. "At least, I think it was meringue."

Klaus burst into laughter, picturing the scene Caroline described. "And what, pray tell, was dear Marcel's reaction upon being caught in such a compromising position?"

Caroline shrugged. "He wasn't _that_ compromised — his penis was wearing an oven mitt. This, frankly, opened up a whole other set of uncomfortable questions I had no inclination to pursue. As I exited the bakery, I just reminded him that for health reasons, when banging a human, he should remember the mantra, 'food above, lube below'."

"That may be the best thing I've heard all day, sweetheart," Klaus confessed, chuckling.

She eyed him critically. "You're mentally making a list of meringue pies you will have your minions deliver Marcel, aren't you?"

"Along with multiple pairs of oven mitts," Klaus agreed.

Caroline laughed, "If only I could see Marcel's face when he receives your thoughtful presents." She subconsciously brushed away an errant damp curl, hoping Klaus would find her skin to be 'glowing' rather than just sweat-soaked and smelly. "So what are you doing here? Come to work off some of your manpain with kickboxing? Their next class starts in fifteen."

"Not quite, love," he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "I wanted to see if my favorite witch doctor would be making a house call tonight," he smirked.

Caroline rolled her eyes. "After that workout, the only house I'm calling on is mine. I was going to pour myself into a hot bubble bath; however, my tub is awfully big for just one person. Perhaps you'd care to join me," she impishly asked him.

With a possessive growl, his mouth came down upon hers, pulling her into a soul-searing kiss that left her breathless. Just as she began to enthusiastically respond to his passionate embrace, she heard her name being called. She grudgingly broke away from Klaus' insistent lips to find her kickboxing teacher standing behind them. "Hey, April," she called out, trying to hide her aggravation at being rudely pulled away from a hot hybrid lip lock.

"Caroline, could you give me a ride home," April asked, her eyes wandering to Caroline's car.

Confused, Caroline said, "I thought you had another class to teach tonight?"

"No, I need to get home now," April answered.

Caroline shrugged and turned to Klaus, kissing his nose lightly. "Why don't you pick us up something delicious for dinner and meet me at my place in an hour?"

Klaus kissed her once more, lingering long enough to make Caroline regret being so predictably helpful. "Hurry home," he whispered, tracing the outline of her flushed cheek with one finger as he strolled away.

Gathering her wits, Caroline unlocked her car and waited patiently for April to sit in the passenger's seat. "So, April, where am I taking you," she asked.

"We're going over Pontchartrain Expressway," April said, looking straight ahead.

Caroline started the car, nodding as she headed toward the busy highway. "Okay, so you're across the river, then. Are you on Madison or Monroe?"

April continued staring blankly out the windshield and firmly said, "We have to go over the bridge."

As Caroline merged with traffic and started driving on the bridge, she became preoccupied with the dented white pick-up in front of her that rudely wanted to take up multiple lanes. She nodded absentmindedly at April. "Sounds good. Just let me know when we get closer to your exit."

Caroline looked over her shoulder and switched lanes, moving to the far left so that she could go faster. She was distracted by lustful thoughts of Klaus and how she wanted him to take her while she straddled his muscular thighs in her claw foot bathtub. His strong hands were always so warm…

Suddenly, April turned her head from staring blankly out the windshield and regarded Caroline with a wide grin full of blinding white teeth. The unnatural expression seemed longer than her face would allow, as though a separate force was behind the movement. "We're here," she called out in a chilling sing-song voice.

"What? We're in the middle of the bridge, April," Caroline said.

April's flat, expressionless eyes were at war with the psychotic smile carved into her face. "Come find me, Caroline. I'm waiting," April's childlike voice taunted.

"Dahlia," Caroline swore, just as April grabbed the wheel with supernaturally fast reflexes, jerking it sharply. The tiny car sped across the bridge's metal barrier with an ear-splitting screech of twisted steel before Caroline could slam on the brakes and regain control. As the blood pounded in her ears, she had the curious sensation of the car seeming to float for a few seconds before it plunged into the muddy Mississippi.

The force of the impact had knocked out April, whose head lolled to the side as the river poured into the open windows. Caroline released her seatbelt, coughing as she took a deep breath and tried to regain her wits. She knew that even if she drowned, she would be resurrected, but she couldn't just leave April to her fate. Clearly, Dahlia had possessed her to deliver her unsettling message and now having done so, likely had abandoned April to this watery end.

Summoning her powers, Caroline sent out a distress call and was relieved a moment later to see the twins' long dark hair floating around their smiling faces like halos.

"Caroline, what happened," one of the water nymphs asked, peering curiously at April's unconscious body.

"Had a bit of a disagreement with an ancient witch, so she threw my car in the Mississippi. We'll call it a tie for now," Caroline said, kicking open the passenger door. Before the river water could completely flood the car, she asked the water nymphs to grab April and get her to safety. Being water nymphs, the twins could swiftly navigate the Mississippi, and Caroline needed to minimize the water that was likely in April's lungs.

As the water engulfed the car while still making its descent, Caroline swam through the open door. She floated in the murky depths, letting the strong currents tug at her exhausted body. She raised her arms and felt her magic swirl around her, causing waves to ripple outward toward the shore. She created a tunnel within the river, allowing her to walk in a dry pocket of air that temporarily existed in between the water's surface and the muddy river bottom. When she came to a set of concrete pillars, she broke the surface, swimming to the deserted area under the bridge where she could see the twins had taken April. She anxiously knelt by their side as one of the twins was performing CPR on April's still form.

Finally, April began choking as she expelled the silty river water from her lungs. As she gazed wide-eyed at Caroline, she asked, "What's going on? Where am I?"

Caroline quickly grabbed April's hand and was relieved to find that Dahlia's dark presence had left the poor woman. She could see the fear and uncertainty in April's eyes and Caroline's heart went out to her; an innocent caught in a supernatural war beyond her comprehension. Caroline placed a comforting hand on the bewildered woman's forehead. "Sleep now. All will be well when you awaken." As April's troubled eyes drifted shut, Caroline rubbed her temples tiredly.

She thanked the twins for their help and then contacted several of her followers to come pick up her and her sleeping companion. After dropping Caroline off in front of her house, they would take April home and perform a memory spell so she would forget the terrifying events of the evening.

Caroline sighed, wishing it would be that easy for her to forget.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Warning: I've taken ridiculous creative license with a supremely delicious Peruvian drink because the truth (much like cloney Cami) is far too boring. Also, there will be brief moments of plot within this shamelessly smutty chapter. Enjoy!

Author's note: I appreciate all of the reviews that I have received for this narrative. It's very gratifying to have my work receive so much attention. Thank you to homeboy (Guest) for being my 100th reviewer! I also wanted to reiterate how flattered I was to receive two Klaroline award nominations in the following categories - Best OT3 Fiction - _An Experiment_ and Best Underrated Fiction - _Conjuring a Heart._ Thank you all for your enthusiasm and support!

" _God hath given you one face, and you make yourself another."  
_ ― William Shakespeare

"Why do you smell like a silt deposit in the Mississippi," Klaus asked Caroline as she wandered into her kitchen.

"Because that's where Dahlia parked my car," Caroline replied shortly.

He was immediately on edge, gripping her arms and pulling her close to his body, his gray eyes frantically scanning her body for injuries. "What happened? What did she do to you, sweetheart?"

Touched by his obvious concern, she gently caressed his stubbled jaw. "I'm fine. Dahlia just decided she was tired of playing the long game, that's all." Before he could begin his inquisition, she briefly explained, "I was half-way across the bridge when it turns out Dahlia had possessed April. She told me to _come find her_ and that she'd been _waiting for me_ and then April grabbed the wheel and we drove into the Mississippi." Her eyes flashed angrily as she recalled her momentary panic and overwhelming feelings of helplessness and fear as she watched the river pour into her open car windows.

Klaus must have seen the brief hints of frailty within Caroline's strong demeanor as he pulled her closely, and kissed her temple. "I should have realized something was wrong. I never should have let you go alone. I — I'm sorry I wasn't there," he said hesitantly.

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Let's be clear — we don't 'permit' each other to do things, Klaus. This is a partnership in which we respect each other's power." She sighed as she thought back to her brief interactions with April and how she had missed the signs. "If it makes you feel any better, I was completely oblivious to the obvious danger as well." She snuggled in his warm embrace, pausing to congratulate herself on finally teaching the hybrid how to offer genuine, emotion-filled hugs rather than awkward arm placements and too-brief squeezes.

"We're going to stop her. She won't hurt you again," Klaus growled, his eyes briefly flashing gold.

Caroline was surprised to see how Klaus struggled to rein in his temper. Clearly he recalled how little she thought of his last violent outburst, and was attempting to do better. _For her_. She nodded in agreement, a small smile gracing her lovely face. "I wholeheartedly agree. Which is why I came up with a plan while I was seething under the bridge, waiting for a ride home." She dangled a thin, rose-gold bracelet with olive leaves etched into the clasp. "I'm doing a spell."

Klaus watched her swiftly move around her kitchen, opening up various cabinets and glass jars, sniffing experimentally and making adorable faces as she carefully selected or discarded objects based on some invisible recipe only she was privy to. As he sat down on a bar stool beside the island where she worked, he prodded, "And what spell would that be, love?" Smirking, he added, "Perchance it involves snakes? I quite enjoyed the last spell that had one."

Caroline giggled at his oddly wistful expression. "No snakes this time. But I'm sure between the two of us, _something_ will get the creative juices flowing." She ignored his heated expression and in a more formal tone explained, "I realized that I could perform a seeker spell to detect if others that I may come in contact with are under Dahlia's influence. Preferably _before_ I get into vehicles with them." She grimaced as she thought back to the day's unpleasant events. "Seriously, your crazy aunt is the _worst_ backseat driver."

Klaus scoffed at her comments. "I don't appreciate you making light of the peril you were in, sweetheart. If something had happened to you…" he trailed off, looking irritated that he couldn't properly articulate his feelings.

She continued grinding the walnuts and bay leaves in the marble mortar and pestle and sighed, "It's my defense mechanism. Also, _sarcastic bitch demon of doom_ is kind of my neutral position." She leaned over to kiss him on the cheek before she added the fermented manioc root.

He smirked as he pushed a stray damp strand behind her ear. "I enjoy your neutral position. Actually, I'm quite fond of all of your positions." He delicately kissed her ear and peered closely into the concoction she was stirring and asked, "Is that chicha?"

"You know about chicha," she asked surprised. "For rituals, I use fermented manioc root. I stay away from the more traditional fermented purple corn Peruvians favor — that's only if you _really_ want to trip balls."

Klaus winced as though remembering a painful memory. "I'm familiar with the beverage. While traveling in Peru, I had the misfortune of eating an argumentative guerilla soldier and attempted to banish the sour aftertaste with gallons of this purplish-black liquid that turned out to be chicha." He shuddered at the thought. "Needless to say, I spent untold hours strutting about the Incan ruins of Machu Picchu attempting to conquer their 'mighty' civilization." He smiled sheepishly at Caroline. "It was 1985."

Caroline giggled at his revelation, imagining the ancient, powerful hybrid tripping over the rubble that remained of the abandoned Incan city, searching in vain for his "subjects" to impose his rule upon, all while stoned out of his mind. "If it makes you feel any better, Cheech, the first time I tried chicha, I inadvertently caused bell bottoms."

Klaus raised a questioning eyebrow. "Do tell. Did you hallucinate those abhorrent trousers, love?"

"Somewhat." She smiled fondly at the memory. "I was wandering around San Francisco in 1959, immersing myself in the remnants of the beatnik culture that was right on the cusp of the psychedelic '60s and the Haight Ashbury era. I was enjoying an espresso at a friend's café when they asked me if I wanted to try this 'new' drink called _chicha_." She rolled her eyes at the irony of an ancient libation being considered 'new'. "This girl wearing skinny black jeans approached me, yelling about how I needed to quit staring at her man, and that I was too much of a 'square' to ever catch his eye."

Klaus laughed, "I suspect the girl was quite mistaken. You easily caught mine."

Caroline scoffed. "By this time, I had started feeling the effects of the drink and the floor kept winking at me, the cheeky bastard, so as I was staring at her, I decided that I should help out her insecurities and ensure she would keep her boyfriend's eyes on her." Grinning devilishly, she continued, "So I caused her absurdly tight pants to balloon out from the knees down. Seriously, a scout troop could have camped under those pants." She shrugged nonchalantly, "Next thing I know, a slightly toned-down version of my hallucinogenic fashion don't started popping up everywhere."

Klaus threw back his head, laughing. "I don't suppose you're also to blame for leisure suits, are you, sweetheart?"

"No," Caroline said, chuckling. She swatted his hands away that were tracing lazy circles along her arms. "Now quit distracting me. I need to complete the ritual." She placed April's bracelet in the center of the kitchen island and began chanting softly as she held the marble mortar over her head. She slowly poured the thick potion over the gleaming rose-gold links. Sickly green tendrils of smoke curled out from the bracelet, and Caroline began to chant loudly, raising her arms as the cloud of smoke flooded her kitchen in an oppressive, threatening manner. Pursing her lips, she blew the offensive magic of her nemesis out of her home. As it retreated, she lowered her arms and her breathing returned to normal. "There," she said with a satisfied nod. "It is done."

"How exactly will this seeker spell work, love," Klaus asked as he watched the last of the foul smoke exit her kitchen.

Caroline watched as the final traces of her spell evaporated from the butcher block island and her utensils, leaving behind gleaming surfaces once more. "It's simple, really. Everyone who is magically inclined leaves behind a unique signature whenever they use their power. Dahlia had obviously performed a spell on April, so using a personal object of April's, I was able to call forth Dahlia's magic and use it to sense whenever anyone I come in contact with has been touched by her spells."

"So now you'll be safe," Klaus asked, his gray eyes filled with concern.

She smiled gently. "Now _we'll_ have a fighting chance," she said carefully. "I made sure that both of us will be able to see Dahlia's magical signature; however, just because we can _see_ her spells doesn't necessarily mean that we can stop them. Think of this ritual as an early warning system." She squeezed his hand and continued hesitantly, "If you want, I can perform the ritual again with others that you trust."

Klaus kissed the top of her head gently. "I'll think about it. This may surprise you, but there's very few that I trust."

Caroline could sense his distress as he pondered the ramifications of who else should be a part of the ritual. She hugged him tightly and said reassuringly, "Hey, we don't have to solve every problem tonight. Let's stick a pin in it for now." She smiled at him and grabbed the mortar and pestle, but before she could turn around to put it back in its cabinet, Klaus had settled behind her, effectively trapping her body as he placed his muscular arms on either side of the island. She leaned back against his powerful body, feeling the tension-filled desire humming within him.

His warm breath puffed gently in the shell of her ear and his soft lips descended upon her ivory neck, blazing a trail of searing kisses. As he reached her pulse point, he increased the pressure of his insistent lips, teasing the smooth skin between his teeth as he inhaled her sweet vanilla scent. His hands ventured to her waist, confidently sliding up her torso until he firmly cupped her breasts, kneading them with his clever fingers.

She sighed in contentment, loving how the warmth of his hands made her feel instantly connected to his entire being. In her haste to feel his burning touch on her bare skin, she quickly ripped off her black tank top and sports bra, throwing them across the kitchen. She gasped in delight at the feel of his fingers lightly pinching her hard nipples, squeezing them almost to the point of sweet, delicious pain.

Klaus suddenly dropped to his knees behind Caroline, and as she started to turn around to see what he was doing, he grabbed her toned thighs and aggressively spun her back to the island, silently dictating her position. His long fingers toyed with the waistband of her tight capris. He began to work the stretchy material down her body, so painstakingly slow it made her whine with impatience, desperate for his attention on the rest of her newly exposed skin.

"Shh, love. Let me take care of you," he whispered reverently as he stripped her delectable body bare. He ran his palms over her legs, gently caressing her smooth skin. He placed hot, wet kisses along her thighs and he murmured, "Open up for me, sweetheart."

Caroline moaned, feeling his hands tug apart her thighs as he moved his sinful kisses to her round, firm ass. He lightly bit her delicate flesh, leaving rosy pink marks in his lustful wake. She gasped as she felt him carefully slip a finger into her moist center, slowly testing her passage. Soon, he thrust another finger within her, stretching her marvelously as she ground against him.

Klaus continued his torturously slow pumps as he suddenly stood behind her. He increased his delicious speed as Caroline began meeting his thrusts forcefully, moving her hips wider to wordlessly communicate her willingness to accommodate as much as he could offer. He nibbled on the side of her neck, panting slightly as he said, "Let me be good to you."

She groaned as she spied his other hand slither across the island and stroked the pestle, almost lovingly. "Yes," she gasped, spreading herself even wider. "Give me everything you have." She leaned against the island, continuing to meet his thrusting fingers.

"Dirty little minx," he smirked, grasping the marble cylinder while gazing at her bent form with a feral golden gleam in his eyes. He halted his pounding and removed his fingers, lapping at her sticky essence with a moan. He placed the end of the pestle at her quivering opening, teasing her sensitive skin.

Caroline closed her eyes as she felt the cool marble object on her sweat-soaked body. She wanted, no she _needed_ him to push it in, to fill her as he took his pleasure in watching her come apart under his talented, erotic ministrations. Her desire was granted a moment later as he slowly inched the pestle into her slick valley. Her moist walls contracted against the ritual tool, clamping down and forcing Klaus to exert additional pressure as he began his thrusts once more.

"That's it," he whispered as he felt her body start to shake as she reached the precipice of her orgasm. "Almost there, love."

She yelled his name as she suddenly came around the pestle, her upper body collapsing against the island. As she felt him kneel once more and replace the object with his warm, wet tongue, she whimpered, "I don't know if I can."

"Shh, love, this is the best part," he coaxed as he steadily licked her still-quivering folds. He pushed his sharp tongue deeply into her dripping center, lapping at her honeyed essence. He swirled his tongue throughout her sensitive flesh, licking his lips with a flourish as he straightened behind her.

She rose from the island and turned around, grinning mischievously as she sunk to her knees before him. Her fingers, trembling in their haste, made short work of his jeans and shoes. She placed a soft hand on top of his tell-tale damp boxers and cooed, "My poor baby. You were all worked up." She met his golden, lust-filled gaze steadily. "Show me what's left."

Klaus groaned as she pulled down his boxers and firmly grabbed his thick erection, easily sliding over his arousal-soaked skin. She worked him over steadily, delighting in his haggard breathing as he leaned over her small body. He gave a strangled shout as she slid him fully into her mouth, filling her hot cavern with his powerful member.

She groped his flexing ass cheeks, pulling him closer toward her mouth as he began a series of quick thrusts. She stroked the underside of his sensitive flesh with her tongue, teasing him as she could feel his excitement trickle down. She jerked him out of her mouth and pushed his engorged length between her breasts, commanding, "Come on me, Klaus. Make me wet."

"Fuck. Going to soak you. Saucy nymph," he ground out, gritting his teeth as he pumped his hips into her breasts, mesmerized by the erotic sight of his cock nestled between her luscious globes. With a growl, he came, spilling onto her bouncing ivory flesh as she rubbed her nipples seductively.

She took his offered hand, standing before him once more. As she began pulling him toward the stairs, she declared, "I do believe that earlier I promised you a dip in my bathtub." Winking, she added, "How do you feel about bubbles?"

With a growl, he picked her up and sped her upstairs, stopping inside the master bathroom whose focal point was a massive robin's-egg-blue bathtub with brass dragon claw feet. He glanced at her, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Caroline rolled her eyes at his silent query. "I know; it's incredibly ostentatious and has no business in my minimalist-decorated lair." She shrugged her shoulders helplessly, "It was a gift from an extremely grateful lost soul I helped out and I couldn't turn it down. Plus, after just one bubble bath, I was enamored with it."

She gazed at the gleaming brass claws fondly, "I'd been meaning to get a pet of some sort anyway." She pulled the cork stopper out of a large glass jar and poured a generous amount of the lavender-honey bubble bath inside the tub. She grinned at Klaus and said conversationally, "You know, he still refers to me as his _original_ _Khaleesi_."

Klaus's mouth dropped open in amazement. "You are full of surprises, sweetheart." He stretched out in the tub as she turned on the water.

"Let's get the jets started making our bubbles," Caroline said, waving her hand as the water began churning powerfully around Klaus' trim, toned body.

"You're quite handy, love. Is there anything you can't do," he asked, gazing at her lovingly.

Caroline pondered his question thoughtfully. "Endure an Adam Sandler marathon. Clearly he made some powerful deals with truly diabolical demons." She grabbed her iPod from her bedroom and selected her most recent playlist she created.

Klaus groaned good-naturedly as the deep, soulful wailing began. "Do you realize, love, that ever since that night in your exclusive club, I experience an erection nearly every time I'm in the vicinity of a blues guitar?" He narrowed his eyes playfully at her amused giggles. "It's a bloody impossible task attempting to avoid blues music in New Orleans!"

Caroline threw back her head laughing at the images he conjured. She smoothly slid into the porcelain tub, gently perching on his strong thighs while straddling him. "I apologize for corrupting your delicate sensibilities," she purred sexily, gazing at him from underneath her long eyelashes. "Would you care for me to corrupt you once again?" She rolled her hips against his experimentally before sinking down upon his iron length with a satisfied sigh.

The seductive rhythm of Howlin' Wolf's "Evil (Is Going On)" filled the bathroom as the couple moved in sync with the churning water:

"If you're a long way from home,  
Can't sleep at night,  
Grab your telephone,  
Somethin' just ain't right.

That's evil, evil is goin' on wrong,  
I am warnin' you brother,  
You better watch your happy home."

Klaus raised his knees behind her and grunted, "Lean back, love, I want to see it." As Caroline obeyed him, she tilted her pelvis up slightly even as she continued to meet his punishing thrusts. "That's it," Klaus rumbled, "I want you to touch it. Caress that trembling little pearl." His eyes flashed gold as he hissed, "Make yourself squirm."

"Oh yes," Caroline moaned, plunging her hand between her legs, pushing aside the mountain of bubbles and rubbing the flat of her palm against her swollen clit.

His thrusts became more wild as he took in the erotic sight before him, savoring Caroline's delicate pink mouth open in ecstasy as she edged herself closer to the brink of pure bliss. He gripped her thighs harshly, digging in his fingers as he uttered a final, guttural roar, spilling into her with everything he had to give.

As Caroline felt her own release, Klaus surprised her by pulling her sticky, dripping center toward his waiting mouth, resting her legs on his wide shoulders as he ate at her hungrily. Trembling from her orgasm, she curled against his warm chest, content to allow him to dine to his heart's content. All too soon, his clever tongue and teeth had worked her into another frenzied release, one that exploded through her with reckless abandon and had her shakily clutching the porcelain sides of the bathtub.

As they lay together with the water slowly cooling, Caroline kissed one of his nipples softly, trailing her fingers through the impressive ridges of his toned torso. "So, if that's the reaction you have to blues guitars, perhaps I should look into a neutering spell, hmm?" She ducked her head as he playfully threw a mountain of cloud-soft bubbles at her.

Rising out of the tub, he kissed the tip of her nose. "Your mere presence has already sentenced me to an ongoing case of blue balls, sweetheart. Let's not exacerbate my condition." After they toweled off and reluctantly got dressed, Klaus kissed her soundly at the threshold of her front door, hating that he had promised Elijah he would return this evening to discuss his brother's latest research attempts.

After Klaus left, Caroline wandered back into the kitchen. She lightly touched April's bracelet, reminding herself she should return it to her kickboxing teacher as soon as possible. April had been an integral part of Caroline's seeker spell, and because Caroline had been able to siphon off traces of Dahlia's magic, she would be able to detect any poor souls the ancient witch had corrupted. _Traces of Dahlia's magic. Seeker spell. Trace. Seek._

Caroline's mind went into overdrive as she excitedly pieced together the momentary thought that could prove to be the key she needed to find Dahlia. Unfortunately, she had exhausted the faint traces of Dahlia's magic that has emanated from April's bracelet. She glanced around her kitchen wildly, thinking back to the day Rebekah and Hope had been there. Removing the two loose red bricks from her fireplace, she pulled out the battered map of Louisiana and the ceremonial knife she had used to cut Hope.

Examining the map, she realized the magical traces were too faint now since the map had been the focal point of the ritual. However, as she picked up the knife, she could still see Hope's blood staining the tip where it had pricked her. She excitedly gathered the ingredients needed to perform a slight modification to her seeker spell and blood magic ritual. She began grinding together bay leaves, walnuts and manioc root, blushing furiously as she tightly gripped the marble pestle.

Good grief — she would never be able to perform another spell with her ritual tools again without giggling like a naughty schoolgirl. She glanced around her kitchen, eyeing her decorative watering can with utensils haphazardly tossed in. She should definitely keep Klaus away from her spatulas. Or start doing Kegels. She inwardly groaned as she suddenly realized why Bonnie had seemed particularly hesitant to let her borrow a hand-held can opener when Caroline misplaced hers. Eww. Just eww.

She added dried henbane to the mixture, a murky rust color emerging. Gripping the steel blade of the ceremonial knife, she called out, "Loa Rada, protector of the spirit plane, grant me your wisdom as I seek the creator of this magic! Guide me as I seek the originator of this unnatural fertility spell!" She raised the knife above her head feeling the magic work its will. Gold sparks erupted from the marble bowl, swirling all around Caroline. Suddenly, the golden ropes shot out of her home, igniting the night sky as they sought their destination.

Caroline raced out of her home, barely remembering to lock her door before she started chasing down the gleaming magical energy. She cursed as she remembered her car was currently parked in the river. As the glittering bands headed toward the French Quarter, she realized she was going to get some exercise. After what seemed like ages, the twirling flickers of light seemed to pause momentarily at the iron gates bordering Jackson Square. Wheezing from exertion, Caroline gripped the metal before her fingers quickly released it as though scalded. It was still unsavory to her to touch the same iron that had impaled her body after it had been burned.

She realized she should alert Klaus. She fumbled around in her pockets before recalling that her phone was uselessly sitting in the kitchen. The golden bands seemed to sense her reluctance and started to fade into the night air. "No," she whispered fiercely. This could be their best lead yet on where Dahlia was hiding. She would carefully follow the shimmering traces of gold and would get out of there before things went south. She could do this. She _would_ do this.

The bands floated away once more, leading her to St. Louis Cathedral. She recalled how this present structure was under construction when Lorenzo had hauled her into Jackson Square to be burned. As she had frantically sought out help in the area that fateful night, her frightened eyes had flickered over the church, praying to catch a stray worker who would be willing to help her. None could be found. She stepped away from the heavy wooden door, realizing she was breathing heavily. Damn it. She was having a panic attack.

Caroline heard faint movement somewhere behind her. As she quickly turned, she was confused to find Davina standing there, gazing at her carefully.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Warning: Graphic violence.

Author's note: Brace yourselves.

" _Beware the fury of a patient man."  
_ ― John Dryden

"Davina," Caroline asked, concern tinging her voice. "What are you doing here at this time of night? It's far too dangerous!"

Davina rushed forward, grasping Caroline's wrist and pulling her back down the cathedral's steps. "Caroline, you can't be here; you have to get out of here now!"

Caroline took in her protégé's tangled dark hair, her sweat-soaked blouse and labored breathing — had she run all the way here from Marcel's? "Davina, calm down. Just tell me what's wrong and I promise I'll fix it," she said soothingly, already feeling her own panic dissipate as she recognized the growing terror in her young friend's eyes. She would protect Davina, just as she had sworn to do.

A sudden blast of cold air blew open the heavy oak doors. "You shouldn't make empty promises your inflated ego cannot deliver, Caroline," a voice called out mockingly. Before Davina and Caroline could react, the same cold gust of wind swirled around them, tossing them inside the cathedral. As Caroline's body crashed into the marble floor, she quickly raised her arms to work her magic against the shadowy figure standing at the gilded altar. Much to her dismay, she couldn't summon even a mere hint of her once-great power. She could feel that the link between her soul and the well of her spiritual strength had been severed.

"Feeling helpless are we, dear Caroline?" The cold, mocking voice echoed throughout the cathedral, making Caroline's ears ring. "Permit me to demonstrate the true depth of your helplessness."

Caroline suddenly felt her small body slammed into a stone pillar near the dark figure. As she struggled against the invisible bonds that held her, she stared in confusion as her tormentor finally stepped out of the shadows and revealed herself. "Freya," Caroline said in disbelief.

With a calm, calculating smile, Freya stood before Caroline, clearly enjoying her fruitless struggles. "Not quite. I've been remiss in not properly introducing myself. _I_ am Dahlia."

"Dahlia," Caroline growled. "So you've been possessing poor Freya this whole time."

"No, you feeble-minded peasant! I sacrificed that simpleton Freya the moment she was gifted to me an eternity ago," Dahlia scoffed. " _This_ is who I truly am!"

"You are an ancient Viking witch who _chose_ to wear mom jeans. On purpose. Possession would've been much more believable," Caroline muttered to herself, still struggling against the invisible force that had her cemented to the surface of the rough stone.

"Caroline, I'm sorry! I swear I didn't know," Davina yelled, racing down the center of the cathedral toward them.

Dahlia watched in amused interest as the terrified teenage girl nearly stumbled into her. "Oh yes, your little protégé," she glanced up at Caroline, smiling.

"You dare to threaten mine? I'll have your head for this, witch," Caroline shouted, hating how her voice carried the slightest tremor of fear. She needed to save Davina and somehow fix the broken link with her power. She searched her mind, desperately looking for answers as to how Dahlia had accomplished such a feat.

Dahlia's mocking laughter brought her out of her thoughts. "I wouldn't dream of harming such a useful little ally." With an exaggerated flourish to catch Caroline's attention, she lightly stroked a small, oval locket around her thin neck.

Caroline couldn't seem to look away from the silver necklace, her heart dropping as she understood the ramifications of Dahlia being in possession of what was once one of her most treasured gifts. She finally tore her gaze away from Dahlia's bony hand to stare at Davina. In a soft voice, she asked, "What have you done, Davina?"

The girl sobbed hysterically, unable to hold Caroline's gaze. "She – she came to me one day and introduced herself as 'Freya'. I knew you had started working with her to save Hope, and she told me that she wanted to meet your friends to get to know more about us so the magic would work better. We started hanging out and she showed me some magic and we – we were fr – friends!"

"That's right," Dahlia mockingly patted Davina's bowed head as one would a pet. "Sweet Davina and I became such _close_ friends. After all, she needed someone to help ease the burden of losing a loved one."

Caroline's head snapped to attention, and glaring at Dahlia, she accused, " _That's_ how you tricked her. You offered her Kol."

Davina gave a strangled sob, finally daring to glance at Caroline. "She promised to help me bring him back, Caroline! I needed her help and I knew _you_ wouldn't do it, and I _needed_ him!" She shook her head miserably, "Then, she said we could trade. She would give me Kol if I could give her something of yours." She squeezed her eyes shut as though blocking out a painful memory. "So I gave her the dumb necklace and after I told her… but I swear I didn't know what would happen and I didn't know she was Dahlia!"

Caroline closed her eyes, unable to watch Davina break down. The betrayal she felt pierced her heart and left her feeling a desolate, empty cold deep down in her bones. For Davina to have taken the precious gift of Abby's necklace and toss it away to another was a painful reality she couldn't comprehend. When she had first considered bestowing the treasured locket to the young girl, she had imagined that Davina would eventually pass along the gift to her own child or perhaps to another young witch she would mentor herself. A foolish thought, perhaps, but it had warmed Caroline's heart to think of Abby's necklace carrying on a tradition of unbroken loyalty and sisterhood.

 _Loyalty. Sisterhood._ Caroline willed away her tears of anger at Davina's duplicity. Deep down, she understood the young girl's resentment toward her for refusing to go against her beliefs and resurrect Kol. She could even sympathize with the mistakes that inevitably accompany youthful pride and inexperience. However, the fact that Davina so carelessly devalued her friendship and allegiance was difficult to forget. Forgive, perhaps eventually. Forgetting, though…well, Caroline was cursed with a very long memory.

She focused her attention on the stained glass window across from her. Its brilliant kaleidoscope of colors softly glowed in the wake of the flickering candles on the altar. "Davina," she called out, waiting for the trembling girl's dark eyes to meet hers. "Your reckless actions are inexcusable. The ramifications of your deceit could result in numerous lives lost. Including a child's." Caroline paused as she saw the horror dawning in Davina's eyes. Clearly, Davina had acted on pure instinct fueled by her own selfish desires, not stopping to ponder the larger consequences of her betrayal. Caroline shook her head sorrowfully, "I warned you to be wary of where you put your faith. To always be sure of those who have your trust."

Dahlia cackled, "I have you pinned to the side of a pillar with my power and yet you find time to admonish your student."

"Yes, _my_ student. _Not_ yours, Dahlia," Caroline retorted. "Congratulations on being so despicable that you would use a child's sorrow to deceive her. You must be so proud of your abilities to fool a young girl."

Narrowing her black eyes, Dahlia suddenly dropped the invisible force surrounding Caroline, where she crumpled in a heap at the base of the stone pillar. She hissed, "I didn't fool _just_ a young girl, Caroline, I fooled you all."

As she lay on the cold marble, moments flashed through Caroline's mind of how Dahlia had been able to casually avoid touching her whenever they were together. At their first meeting in the cemetery, she recalled how a simple handshake with Rebekah had revealed to her that Rebekah possessed another's body. Dahlia's eyes had watched the exchange with both suspicion and calculation. Later on, in the library after the window had shattered, Dahlia had hidden under the table away from Caroline and pretended to be traumatized to excuse why she didn't want anyone to come in contact with her.

Dahlia smiled coldly, clearly enjoying Caroline's beaten expression. "I deceived you all and took your most treasured possession," she taunted, touching Abby's silver locket once more.

"At least you didn't take my mortar and pestle," Caroline said, shrugging at Dahlia's temporary confusion, "I bonded with them recently."

Dahlia continued in a high, cruel voice, "I so carefully crafted my cover, even sacrificing my greedy henchmen, Jenna and Alaric, to Klaus to earn his trust." She waved her hand carelessly, "Not that it mattered — they were fairly useless in serving me. They were not in strategic positions of power within their pack to be privileged with the locations of the safe houses for Hope."

Caroline shuddered as Dahlia's vicious words pelted her mercilessly. Jenna and Alaric had been pawns in Dahlia's game and while Klaus may have been the one to end their lives, Dahlia had sparked the devastating chain of events that left her poor godson, Remy, an orphan. "Hollow bitch," Caroline spat. "Everything you touch turns to ash. You fill a void with power. You are cursed to walk this plane alone." A slight smile twisted on her otherwise impassive face. "You desperately crave my fear. All you will receive is my pity."

Davina's dark eyes flashed in anger. " _Your_ pity? I'm not the pathetic creature who wantonly spreads herself to a loathsome beast to feel like she belongs to someone. Everyone you care about eventually betrays you because you will _never_ be as important to them as their own selfish desires. Jenna, Alaric, Davina — how many more of your trusted circle will ultimately fail you?"

"No!" The strangled shout echoed through the cathedral as Davina lurched forward and reached for Abby's necklace. Her fingers brushed against the thin, silver chain briefly, before Dahlia gripped her wrist tightly, chanting poisonous words that Caroline was powerless to stop.

As Davina slowly backed away from Dahlia, she clutched her arm suddenly, shrieking in pain. Caroline watched in horror as the flesh on Davina's arm began to writhe, and then the skin split neatly at her shoulder, sending a fountain of blood racing down the poor girl's side. No longer bound by Dahlia's power, Caroline ran to Davina, who had fallen to the floor, shaking and crying. "Davina," she shouted, feeling helpless in the face of Dahlia's dark magic. As she knelt there, she stared in disbelief as the muscles in the injured arm began to tear away from the rest of the girl's body, peeling down layer upon bloody layer.

With a wounded cry, Caroline mindlessly seized Davina's gore-soaked flesh that seemed determined to sever itself upon Dahlia's depraved orders. Hearing Davina's weak whimpering, Caroline began pushing the pieces of Davina's arm toward her trembling body, as though through her touch alone she could stop this cruel magic from harming the terrified girl. When Caroline saw the raw, blood-streaked bone peeking through the mutilated flesh and muscle, she called out desperately to Dahlia, "Please! You have to stop this; she can't take anymore!"

Dahlia leveled her cold, dead gaze upon Caroline's anguished form. "Agreed. Enough time has been squandered."

Caroline heard the sickening crack of bone before she felt it; Davina's arm fell from her bloody grasp as the bone broke cleanly from the socket, leaving a gaping hole behind. A river of dark blood flowed around the girl who continued to quake even as Caroline leaned forward to hold her. "Davina, I – I have failed you," Caroline whispered helplessly.

Davina took a shaky breath and replied, "No, I failed you. I'm so sorry, Caroline. I'm sorry I told her…" Her eyelids grew heavy and with a final gasping breath, her entire form went limp, leaving Caroline alone in her anguish.

Caroline steadied her trembling hand, softly touching the fallen girl's cheek. Gathering her strength, she pushed aside the tears that threatened to overwhelm her and she raised her hard, blue stare to Dahlia. With an inhuman growl, she swore, "I will see you burn, witch."

"You first," Dahlia smiled cruelly. Her dark eyes danced with insidious purpose. "That reminds me, it is terribly rude to keep our honored guest waiting." She glanced over her shoulder expectantly.

Heavy footsteps sounded through the cathedral, their echoes almost painful to Caroline as they crept closer to the altar where she continued to kneel beside Davina's lifeless form. In shock, she choked out only one word, "Lorenzo."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Author's Note: Special thanks to the guest reviewer who commended me for "being on point with the bitch witch/vitch wit." I appreciate the kudos! Now, if only I would use my sarcastic bitching powers for good… Also, thank you all for your votes during the Klaroline Awards. Your support is very much appreciated and I hope that you will continue to enjoy my work as much as I enjoy writing it.

"Something of vengeance I had tasted for the first time; as aromatic wine it seemed, on swallowing, warm and racy: Its after-flavor, metallic and corroding, gave me a sensation as if I had been poisoned."  
― Charlotte Bronte

Lorenzo casually pushed back a lock of his thick, black hair. "Hello, my gorgeous girl," he grinned lazily at Caroline.

Caroline resisted the immediate urge to cower next to Davina's fallen body. Dahlia had reduced her to a powerless, terrified human and now she was facing not only her sick, evil tormentor, but also the man she had tortured for all of these years in misguided, selfish retribution. She forced her face to remain blank as she slowly stood before him, because she would be damned before she would allow him to tower over her. When he threatened her, she demanded he look her in the eye to do so. "Lorenzo," she nodded. "I thought I smelled barbeque."

"Not yet you don't," Lorenzo sneered, "but you will soon."

Dahlia wryly interrupted the two as they started to square off next to the altar. "Is that how you greet an old acquaintance, Caroline? Your shameful manners must be the product of your questionable upbringing."

Caroline glared at the grinning witch. "And I'm going to assume that you releasing my 'acquaintance' is a _product_ of your desperate need to get laid."

"No need to be jealous, sweet Caroline," Lorenzo drawled lazily. "When the lady first released me, she merely enlightened me to our common interests. We are merely allied under a common goal."

Caroline snorted, "Hey, you want to shoot blanks into a dusty cave, be my guest. No judgement from me." Her blue eyes glittered maliciously, "Of course, I hear that after years of disuse, some chafing is to be expected."

Dahlia's disdainful tone interrupted them. "As amusing as this distraction has been, I fear I must be off." Dahlia mockingly touched Abby's necklace. "Now that the queen has been rendered useless, it's time to move the rest of my chess pieces and claim my victory."

"I've been called many things, witch, but never 'useless'. Especially by one so beneath me. Your fear of me forced you to resort to a cheap parlor trick to best me." She glared at Dahlia, "I promise you, I _will_ reclaim what is mine. Your victory will never come to pass."

Dahlia laughed coldly, "I've already won, you empty-headed fool! I've effectively blocked your access to power using the necklace you hold so dear and I will use that same necklace to seek out your magical traces, performing a simple locator spell to find the safe house in which Hope has been hidden." Her dark eyes flashed dangerously. "You have lost the war. And soon, your life. Without access to your power, when you perish, you _will_ stay dead." She turned to leave, swiftly heading down the aisle and out the door.

Caroline shouted after her, "You should never leave an enemy for dead, Dahlia! Kill me now while you have the chance, bitch!" The heavy oak doors slamming shut was the only reply. She muttered to herself as she glanced at Lorenzo out of the corner of her eye, "If nothing else, this teachable moment has effectively demonstrated _that_ life lesson."

Lorenzo smiled deviously, chilling her with his calculated appraisal. "Alone at last. Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this moment, my gorgeous girl?"

"159 years, four months," Caroline held up her bare wrist and continued matter-of-factly, "and if I hadn't left my watch at home, I could give you the hours and minutes too." She shrugged at his irritated expression. "What? I began torturing you the day after you burned me at the stake. It was a memorable milestone for me."

He crept closer to her, wanting to stare directly into her eyes. "While we had only briefly made each other's acquaintance before you revealed to me your unnaturalness, the duration of my incarceration at your hands has given me marvelous insight into your behavior. All those times you would stop by to visit me, condemning me with your words, but it was your eyes that gave you away, my dear." He casually flicked one of her blonde curls off of her shoulder. "Those scared little blue orbs told a completely different story. You are just as terrified of me today as you were that day I caught you releasing all of my pretty little toys."

"Lies," Caroline hissed, jerking her hair out of his reach. "Every despicable word that tumbles from your mouth is a lie."

" _I_ lie? You are the deceitful one, filthy witch. Hiding behind your unnatural power, pretending to be human." His soulless eyes flicked to the side and briefly appraised Davina's still body. "The manner in which you employ wit and sarcasm to distract from the pain and weakness you feel by others' betrayal. You never will learn, you pathetic little girl."

She clenched her fists angrily even as a wave of sorrow passed over her. She willed herself not to look at Davina's corpse. She could not afford to breakdown at the sight of the discarded husk the young girl had become. The feeling of betrayal at her actions and the horrific manner in which she was murdered was too much to bear and she did not have the luxury of losing focus in the face of one of her greatest enemies. "I may be powerless at the moment, but I'll _never_ be pathetic," she swore.

Without another word, Lorenzo backhanded her cheek, his signature ruby ring cutting her soft skin. As she whipped her head back to face him defiantly, he watched in pleasure as blood dripped from the mark he made. "That's strange; you look pretty pathetic to me," he sneered.

Caroline angrily threw a punch, inwardly celebrating when her knuckles actually made contact with his right eye. Over the years, she had been somewhat lax in learning self-defense, mainly because she always relied upon her magic. It foolishly never occurred to her that she might one day be blocked from accessing her power. Apparently, one never truly outgrew the arrogance of youth. His eye still watering, Lorenzo came out swinging, and Caroline managed to dodge the first few punches. Unfortunately, her relief was short-lived as a particularly powerful uppercut disoriented her enough that he quickly encircled her neck with his meaty hands.

As she began gasping for air, she allowed her fear to wash over her. Lorenzo was going to kill her and this time, her death would be permanent. She would never get to see her friends again. Or Klaus. At the thought of Klaus, tears began to trickle down her face. He had come into her life like a whirlwind, his violent, pompous demeanor merely a mask for the damaged, lonely individual he truly was. The fact that he had given her his trust touched her in a way she couldn't put into words, and she hoped that when he learned of her death, he understood the significant role he had played in her life. _And that he sought bloody, terrifying, carnage-filled retribution on her behalf._ It was with his name lovingly gracing her lips that she lost consciousness, surrendering to the void that wished to claim her.

" _You've landed yourself in quite a mess, baby girl." Caroline blinked in confusion as she tried to find the source of the familiar voice. She realized she was sitting on top of a red clay-tiled roof. Warm, welcoming arms embraced her fully, rocking her gently as she breathed in the comforting aromas of cinnamon and cloves._

 _Caroline gasped as she fiercely returned the hug, fresh tears welling. "Abby," she choked out, "Is it really you?"_

" _Of course it's me — after all, you once told that triflin' lil' wanna-be that 'loved ones find a way to communicate with us when it's needed.' What — you don't believe your own press now, baby girl?" Abby chuckled, her wild mane of dark curls tinged with auburn held back with the familiar carved wooden hair sticks._

" _You heard that, huh," Caroline gave a watery laugh as she narrowed her eyes at her mentor. "What else have you been hearing lately? Is the other side really that lacking in entertainment you need to spy on the living?"_

 _Abby grinned impishly. "Oh, you better believe I been hearin' AND seein' a whole mess of crazy with you and that sexy devil-man. Not to mention the foolery my Bonnie and that no-good man-child vampire get up to. Don't you worry, though; I make myself scarce before I see TOO much of any of you."_

 _She blushed, ducking her head slightly. "How is it you still make me feel like I'm that scared fourteen-year-old that stumbled into your ritual?" She shook her head, "I suppose it's foolish for me to ask what you think of him if you're calling him 'devil-man'."_

 _Abby leaned into her and whispered conspiratorially, "Look like he not_ all _devil. You glowin' now just talkin' about him." She winked, "Besides, I don't got much room to judge, huh, baby girl?"_

 _Caroline's lips curved mischievously. "And how is Agwe these days? Are you still a_ willing _student?"_

 _Abby rolled her eyes. "Never you mind about that — he's good company and knows how to make my time on the spiritual plane mean somethin'."_

" _Uh huh. Glad to hear he's still pleased with how you blow a conch shell, Abby."_

 _Abby smacked her shoulder good naturedly. She sighed as she glanced at the unnaturally bright sun overhead. "We gotta get a move on, my sweet baby. Can't just be flappin' our gums about me."_

 _Caroline could hear the serious tone of her mentor. She took in the green campus lawn below them and the Richardsonian Romanesque style of the spires they sat beside. "We're sitting on the roof of Gibson Hall, aren't we?"_

 _Abby smiled, nodding her head. "I thought you'd like to see it with me once more. Remember back in the day how we'd float up here and listen in on Tulane's board as they made decisions about admissions and scholarship applications?"_

 _A faraway look in her blue eyes, Caroline chimed in, "And then we'd follow them out to the parking lot if we disagreed with any of their decisions. It was always so surprising how easily someone could change their minds when presented with logical reasoning…and some chanting mixed with a little rooster blood."_

" _Or ox blood, dependin' on how stubborn they wanted to be," Abby reminded her. She patted Caroline's knee as they sat in companionable silence, swinging their legs over the ornate stone roof ledge._

" _So if I'm here on the spiritual plane with you, I've either passed on or getting close to it," Caroline bit her lip, not wanting to meet her mentor's eyes._

" _Not yet, baby girl. I pulled you on over here for a minute to talk to you while you're unconscious." Her eyes darkened angrily. "That ol' demon bastard will get his, just you wait." She squeezed Caroline's hand. "I've watched you suffer, and it tore my heart loose to see your pain. Those lies that werewolf couple fed you and how that handsome devil-man ended them and then kept it from you." She shook her head sadly, "But I was sure proud of you the way you put that uppity pack master back in his miserable place and shamed him into doin' right by Remy. You a good godmother. A good woman."_

 _Caroline smiled weakly, "I was also told I'd make a good wolf."_

" _Remy's grandmamma and that dimpled ol' devil-man weren't lyin' about that, baby girl."_

" _I trusted Jenna and Alaric. They used me. I can't imagine what kind of people would purposely side with an evil that would cause such harm, especially to a child," Caroline said sadly._

 _Abby sighed, "You wanna see the best in folks, and that ain't no crime, baby girl. Like the way you tried to be a guide to that lyin' lil' wanna-be of Marcel's. You were there for her ungrateful ass when she lost her man and you told her why she couldn't be messin' with no dark magic to get him back." She sneered, "Instead, that whiny lil' girl took your goodwill and threw it in your face and sided with that evil ol' witch."_

" _I know Davina did those awful things. But watching her die terrified and in such pain didn't make this terrible day any less tragic," Caroline muttered._

" _Oh, my sweet baby, I'm sorry you had to go through that." She glanced at the sun once more, eying it critically. Hugged her tightly, she said, "I hate this, but our time is almost over and I've got a couple more things to tell you. First, I know you been through more'n your fair share of troubles lately. Unfortunately, it's not over yet. You're gonna have to face your enemies and none of it's goin' to go down smooth."_

 _Abby hesitated for a moment, as though unsure of how to frame her next words. "Second, I need to share somethin' with you that'll help turn the tide in this war. But, baby girl, you can't say nothin' about it to no one until it's time." She clutched Caroline's shoulders, roughly shaking her. "I mean it, Caroline. This is your secret weapon. You'll know when the time is ready to reveal the truth."_

 _Abby spoke quietly in Caroline's ear, and her blue eyes widened with the gravity of what she had been told. Her beloved mentor was right — it had the potential to change everything. As Abby gave her one final hug good-bye, she whispered, "You were the daughter I was always meant to have. I'm proud to have known you and helped you on your path. You live on for me with all the blessings I can give, baby girl." Sadly, Caroline had no time for tears as the bright sun overhead suddenly flashed and her world went dark once more._


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 

" _Plans are of little importance, but planning is essential."  
_ ― Winston Churchill 

Her awakening was a strange one, but unfortunately one she had been through before. As she opened her eyes, she was startled to see that the night continued. A lifetime's worth of misery and painful regret had flooded through her, but still the black sky stoically remained. Enzo had predictably taken her from the cathedral to the middle of Jackson Square. Her human body strained against the ropes that bound her and she cursed her sudden frailty. In frustration, she smacked the back of her head against the tall wooden post behind her.

Caroline could feel the splintered wood piled haphazardly underneath her feet. _Her bare feet. Motherfu —_ "Lorenzo," she bellowed, her wrathful voice a furies' rage echoing throughout the peaceful square, "if you have defiled my Roger Vivier ballerina flats, there is no sanctuary you could possibly hope to seek that I will not violate to end you."

"After all we've been through, my gorgeous girl, I implore you to call me 'Enzo.'" He stood before her, mockingly waving a burning torch.

"Lorenzo," she purposely drew out the cursed syllables to spite him, vowing to expel that wretched name from all of creation once she regained her powers, "my crispy little torture monkey, the only thing more frightening than your stupidity is your predictability." She hoped that the bitterness in her voice masked the growing terror that she felt. She had experienced this nightmarish reality once before, not to mention the endless dreams she had had since then in which she seemed fated to experience the excruciating torture of the flames searing themselves deep into her bones and the sickening, charred aroma of her skin and hair burning.

He tilted his head mockingly as he watched her continue to pull ineffectively against her ropes. "Time for your punishment, little witch." He runs the torch near her feet, allowing the fire to flow over the woodpile like silk. His eyes never left her wide blue gaze as he feasted hungrily on the swirling emotions he observed there.

Caroline desperately craned her neck as far as she could around the large beam she was tied to, finding herself repeating her sorrowful history as she searched the dark, empty square for anyone who could help her. She barely held back a sob as she thought of her beloved Abby who had come to her and told her the secret that could shape the outcome of this war and could lead to Dahlia's defeat. That knowledge would be rendered useless if she died now.

She teetered between extreme emotions of rage and sadness as she thought of her loved ones and wished she could have a final moment with them all. She wanted to watch her precious godson, Remy, graduate high school. She wanted to listen to Bonnie tell her one more juicy, inappropriate story of her inventive and often acrobatic sexcapades with Marcel. She wanted to teach one more lesson to her students and watch them laugh and play while throwing potting soil at each other. And Klaus. Oh, how she wanted so badly to see his knowing smirk once more, to feel the sensual slide of his muscular body against hers, and to hear how his voice catches just so as he whispers her name with a reverence she never knew she deserved.

The flames lap at the logs, teasing them in a lover's heated kiss. Her skin feels the heat of the fire and wants to curl away from it, as though from a muscle memory long buried. Caroline swore to herself that she would not give Lorenzo the satisfaction of seeing her pain. In her heart of hearts, she knew that she could not possibly stifle the agony she would experience once more, but she would bear it as long as she could. Unfortunately, denying his pleasurable viewing of her torture was the only way she could hurt him now.

"The enjoyment I received watching you burn the first time is nothing compared to the absolute ecstasy I will feel as I watch you experience death for this second and final time," Lorenzo called out, still clutching the flaming torch as his dark eyes glittered maliciously.

The pile of wood at Caroline's feet shifted as the fire continued its destructive dance and she felt an errant flame lick up her shin. Jerking uselessly against the abrasive ropes, she fought to keep her voice steady. "The spell I used on you may have made you immortal so that you could feel my flames without dying, but that doesn't mean you _can't_ die. In fact, I may know a few people who will thoroughly enjoy testing the _mortal_ in your immortal spell."

"Challenge accepted," Klaus called out unexpectedly. The hybrid stalked toward Lorenzo, fury radiating through his being. His gray eyes flickered to Caroline briefly, registering his worry even as he gave her a reassuring nod.

Lorenzo backed up uncertainly, his eyes briefly landing Caroline. "Your lover being here changes nothing. You're still the same weak, helpless bitch you were all those years ago." He quickly tossed the burning torch at her, the end catching her purple tunic, engulfing her torso instantly.

"Tell that to your black eye, you sick fuck," she yelled, trying to hold back a scream as the fire began to sink into her skin. Klaus had come for her, that was the important thing, and if she could just hold on a bit longer, she would be saved.

Klaus's eyes widened in horror as he saw the fire that threatened to consume Caroline. "Now, Bonnie," he bellowed.

The air violently twisted and warped around them as Bonnie and a small army of Caroline's most devoted followers materialized in a circle around the growing fire. Arms raised high above their heads, they chanted with one powerful voice, and Caroline felt the beam she was tied to suddenly break free of the burning logs and rose into the night sky. She coughed, trying to expel the smoke from her lungs even as the fire continued to race across her clothes. The urge to scream had grown terribly strong, but she tried to focus on the fact that Bonnie and her followers had accompanied Klaus and she would be free. Still temporarily human and horrifically burned, but free.

She estimated she was floating a good fifty feet in the air, and sincerely hoped that Lorenzo knew a thing or two about knots or else she would be plummeting to her demise rather than burning. The fire continued to sear an orange and yellow pattern across her chest and belly, sending her nerves into overdrive, and she worried that her body would go into shock soon if the fire wasn't eliminated. Tears coursed down her sweaty cheeks as she bit down on her tongue to hold in her terror. She saw Bonnie take a deep breath and blow for what felt like forever as the flames finally died down to nothing, including those that had leapt onto Caroline. Relief flooded through her system even as her entire body ached with the agony of her burns.

Bonnie and her followers continued chanting as they slowly lowered Caroline back to the ground. "You couldn't have skipped the flying nun demonstration and just put out the fire," Caroline asked, continuing to cough.

Bonnie shook her head, tears trickling down even as she tried to smile. "Sorry, you know how my magic gets away from me when I'm upset," she mumbled, her hands trembling as she waved them at the ropes, causing them to release Caroline. As Bonnie awkwardly caught her before she fell to the ground, her followers moved to rush toward her, but Caroline waved them off. She was taking special delight in watching her sexy, pissed-off hybrid choke the shit out of Lorenzo one-handed and she didn't want to miss a single moment.

"Abomination," Lorenzo hissed as Klaus' fingers squeezed him tightly.

Not bothering to respond, Klaus' eyes took on a wild, golden gleam as he placed both hands on either side of Lorenzo's greasy head and yanked with all his strength. A strangely satisfying crunch echoed throughout the square as the muscles and tendons snapped and a lake of blood poured forth. As Lorenzo's decapitated body collapsed in a heap onto the grass, Klaus maintained his grip on Lorenzo's head, swinging it nonchalantly by the thick black hair. He noticed Bonnie supporting Caroline's trembling body and rushed to her side. "Sweetheart," he said quietly. "Let me heal you." He quickly bit open his wrist and offered it to her.

Caroline eagerly lapped at his spicy blood, anxious to take advantage of his inherent hybrid healing properties. She savored the feel of his hand petting her hair in an attempt to soothe her and tried valiantly to disregard how he was smearing her quite liberally with gore. After she could no longer feel the throbbing pain the fire had left behind and her skin was whole one more, she gently dropped his bloody arm and then pulled him in for a deep, sensual kiss. She poured every desperate thought she had into her kiss, wordlessly telling him of her crippling fear as well as her overwhelming need for him. His tongue lapped at the errant traces of blood at her lips and she held back a moan. Still feeling a bit light-headed, she laughed and said, "You're supposed to let the meat rest a bit after cooking." She winked at him as he growled possessively, "But feel free to admire my beautiful grill marks."

"Caroline love, I'd prefer you not make light of this. Do you have any idea how close I came to losing you," he asked, his voice rising as he pulled her closely to him once more.

She could feel his terror in every twitch of his muscles and warmed at the thought of how deeply he felt for her. "Hey," she said softly. "It's okay." She pulled back slightly to look him steadily in the eyes. "I'm _here_. I'm not going _anywhere_." Her gaze drifted downward and she sighed dramatically, "Although I do have a bone to pick with you. That was supposed to be _my_ kill." She reached down and grabbed Lorenzo's head by his hair. "This is _mine_ now."

Klaus lips twitched at the corners. "I promise to allow you to finish off the next person I wish to murder, all right, love?"

Rolling her eyes, she turned toward Bonnie. "How did you guys know where I was, anyway," she asked.

"Marcel called me in a panic because Josh had told him that Davina had left his place in a hysterical crying fit and wouldn't tell him what was wrong. I had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing and when you didn't answer your phone and Klaus confirmed he left you at your house, I did a locator spell and we found you," Bonnie explained, her eyes darting around the empty area, searching for something. "Speaking of Davina, I performed a locator spell on her too and it indicated she was with you — did she get away okay?"

Caroline closed her eyes, but it didn't stop the tears that escaped. Klaus noticed her reaction and immediately shifted his body in front of hers, blocking her from Bonnie in a protective stance. He murmured softly against her ear, "It's all right; you're safe."

She shook her head and stepped around him, squeezing his hand firmly. "Bonnie," she choked out, barely knowing how to start, "Davina didn't make it." She angrily swiped at her damp cheeks. "This whole time she'd been working with —" She halted her story suddenly as her blue eyes widened in terror. Oh god, how could she have forgotten everything that had transpired?

"Klaus," she shouted, startling the hybrid with her strangled cry, "Freya has been Dahlia this entire time! She pretended to be your sister to get close to your family. She has my necklace now and that's how she's blocking my power. She'll be able to use it to trace my spells all the way back to Hope!"

Klaus' gray eyes darkened, and as the black, spidery veins appeared below his skin, he was ready to flash off into the night to save his child. However, before he could move, he was stopped by Elijah and Rebekah's sudden appearance. Elijah's normally pristine suit was a bloody, wrinkled mess and Rebekah was gasping for breath, having held onto her brother as he used his supernatural strength to quickly get them to Jackson Square.

Caroline also noticed that Rebekah was silently weeping. She braced herself for the worst. And she received it.

Elijah looked Klaus in the eye and proclaimed brokenly, "Brother, Dahlia breached the safe house and killed Haley." He lowered his eyes in defeat. "She has taken Hope."

With a terrifying bellow, Klaus unsheathed his fangs and lunged at Elijah, viciously shaking him like a rag doll. "You were supposed to keep Hope safe!" His harsh accusations echoed throughout the square, but underneath his raw anger was the trembling voice of a broken man.

Without another word, Klaus released his brother and inexplicably flashed toward the Andrew Jackson statue nearby. With a mighty roar, he effortlessly wrenched the massive bronze structure from its base and hurled it through the heavy oak doors of the cathedral. As the splintered wood rained down, he suddenly shifted into an enormous gray wolf and escaped into the night with an ear-splitting howl and a predatory golden gleam in his eyes.

Watching helplessly, Caroline fearfully asked Elijah, "Where do you think he's going?"

Elijah answered resignedly, "To eat New Orleans."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Author's note: Graphic violence warning. Also, Caroline's choices are somewhat controversial.

"People do not seem to realize that their opinion of the world is also a confession of character."

— _Ralph Waldo Emerson_

 _Crimson waves splashed haphazardly by an artist's angry brush_. _Ligaments and cartilage crisply snapped_. _And inhuman howling_. The metal top of the streetcar had been peeled like a ripe banana, the jagged strips curling under the force of the powerful blows it suffered. Shattered glass from broken windows littered the pavement. Miscellaneous limbs tangled with each other, carelessly tossed about during his feeding frenzy in the streetcar.

Caroline stood on top of the ruined streetcar, along a narrow strip of metal his powerful claws had missed in his excitement to reach the innocents within. She was still barefoot, having demanded that Elijah whisk her to Klaus immediately once he had voiced his fears for his brother. Klaus had clearly grown disinterested by the lack of challenge a packed streetcar had offered him and had quickly moved on to more exciting pursuits.

Woldenberg Park lay beyond the destroyed streetcar. Normally, at this time of night, the park would be empty, but fate was a determined bitch and spitefully placed as many obstacles as possible in Caroline's way. She shook her head in disbelief as she surveyed the shredded, blood-splattered remnants of the banner that once proudly proclaimed, "Rob Zombie Movie Festival – Stay Up 'Til Sunup with the Zombies". A large crowd had gathered in the park to binge-watch horror movies. She wondered if at first the participants had believed the giant werewolf had been part of the festival.

When Caroline and Elijah had first arrived, the grisly scene before them had stopped them cold. _Angry snarling. Terrified screams torn from throats. Ripping skin. Wet choking. Small clusters of people had tried to run, but the werewolf had gleefully pursued them, golden eyes full of malicious intent as he stalked his prey. Others cowered before him, begging for mercy. They were denied._

Elijah had flashed off to save and compel as many as he could. Once Bonnie arrived with Caroline's followers, Caroline was able to give them a spell to harvest the souls so that the people felt no pain as they died. From her vantage point, Caroline surveyed the massacre, calling out commands to Bonnie and her followers as she watched Klaus target another victim. Arms raised, voices booming as they chanted with one powerful voice, the helpless human immediately became silent and limp as the spell severed the soul. The werewolf began feasting on the empty shell until he had eaten his fill. Countless times Caroline watched this process, wondering if her own soul had somehow fled her body as she was left feeling cold and empty. Her rage at the senseless violence did nothing to warm her and she despised her powerless human state.

Klaus glanced up from his fresh kill, the mangled meat falling from his powerful jaws as he appraised the lone blonde figure atop the destroyed streetcar. His gray fur matted with crimson splashes, he casually moved away from the remains of his latest meal, his golden eyes never once leaving Caroline's. The air crackled all around him as his bones snapped into place and his fur retracted, leaving him a naked, blood-splattered mess.

From her perch, Caroline put her hands on her hips, glaring down at Klaus. "Eaten your fill, have you," she asked venomously.

Klaus growled, taking a menacing step toward her. "My enemy has taken my daughter and killed her mother!" Fists clenching, he continued, "I know not where Hope is or how to begin to save her!"

Caroline shook her head angrily, "There is no excuse for what you have done. The destruction you have wrought was selfish." Her blue eyes were ice as she addressed him, " _You_ are selfish. You take and you take — and damn the consequences as long as you get yours."

Enraged, Klaus leapt to where she was precariously balanced, towering over her. "I am the King of New Orleans! I answer to no one!" A wicked thought suddenly struck him, if his growing smirk and dangerous tone was any indication. "Who are you to judge, little witch?" His eyes returned to their steel gray as he rumbled, "Your precious followers didn't try to stop me — not once. You have a small army at your disposal, not enough to hinder my wolf, but they could have easily saved a handful or so, and yet they didn't — because of you. Why is that, hmm?"

"Because the moment your wolf came here, I knew there was no plea, no action I could have taken to stop your despicable destruction. You hurt; therefore, you needed to _cause_ hurt. You _craved_ it." She said bitterly, surveying the blood-soaked vista before them. The street lamps illuminated the ruby piles of unidentified matter staining the grass, and she could still hear the phantom screams; she knew they would never fully leave her.

Caroline thought back to their first meeting in this park, when she had invited him here to show him the exclusive blues club underneath the Mississippi. It felt so long ago, and she choked on the tears that she refused to shed in his presence. "These dark things are a part of you, and I will not hide from them." Her voice caught painfully on her words as she struggled to remain calm. "I instructed Bonnie and her followers to strip the soul from each victim you took. The instant your fangs or claws sliced flesh, their souls were harvested so that they would feel no pain as they died."

Klaus' eyes softened at her broken confession and he looked out onto the park, evaluating the damage he caused. He bowed his head shamefully. "Save them. Resurrect them, please," he asked with a humble tone she never thought him capable of producing.

With intense effort, Caroline managed to wrench her gaze away from the bodies that littered the lawn. She looked him in the eye and said firmly, "No."

"But they're innocents," he sputtered, clearly taken aback by her refusal. "And you have the bodies to perform the resurrection spell," he added in a bewildered tone.

"Yes, they _were_ innocent. And _you_ killed them. Having me in your life does not grant you infinite do-overs when you think you _should_ feel guilty because I may disapprove of your choices." She folded her arms in front of her, continuing to glare. "If you feel any shame for your disgusting display here, good — remember this feeling, fuse it to your being so that you may choose differently the next time you feel powerless." With a final icy look, she added, "Now go find some clothes so we can discuss strategy." Without looking at him again, she hopped gracefully off of the ruined streetcar, joining Bonnie and her followers on the ground.

Klaus called after her, somewhat awkwardly, "Aren't you going to stay to help put this all back in order?"

Caroline kept her steely gaze on the wake of Klaus' destruction rather than on the man himself. With a careless wave of her arm she commanded, "Clean up your own mess; I have a war to win." As she followed her group back to her house, she reflected on what she had told Klaus and found it to be true. She wasn't his conscience and wouldn't be used to fix his mistakes. The depth of their feelings demanded that she would carve a place for herself in his life as he would in hers. Together in the spaces of calm, between the chaos, they would make their home.

Once she arrived at her house, she changed out of her charred clothing and into comfortable jeans and a t-shirt paired with sneakers. Low-cut blouses, tight pants and heels weren't practical attire to face her enemy while she was temporarily human — she was no Buffy. When she came back downstairs, Klaus, clothed once more, along with Rebekah and Elijah, arrived from compelling and cleaning their way through Klaus' massacre at the park. She led everyone into the living room to strategize.

"Where's your army of minions," Rebekah asked, surprise coloring her tone as they discovered Bonnie was the only one in the room.

"I sent them away to safety. No one else will come to harm because of me," Caroline said forcefully. "Unfortunately, Bonnie is quite possibly the most stubborn human I've ever met and refuses to leave my side. She's a stray dog that bakes magnificently," she added fondly.

"Caroline," Bonnie said, her voice trembling, "My place is at your side — always. Besides, what happened to Davina wasn't your fault. She made her choice."

"But I should have done more to make her see that it was the _wrong_ choice!" Caroline clenched her fists, shaking her head. "I should have been there for her, shown her a better path to take."

"It wouldn't have mattered," Rebekah said softly, patting her hand gently. "The girl fancied herself in love, and any path you showed her that would have taken her further away from Kol was always a path she would reject. You did your best, Caroline."

"You did. You were the best friend she could have had and Davina's the one that failed to value what you gave her. I hate that it had to end like this, but I'm eternally grateful that you're okay," Bonnie said, wiping away a stray tear.

"As am I," Klaus nodded in agreement, pulling Caroline to him hesitantly, as though afraid she would protest the connection so soon after the ugliness that had transpired. He relaxed slightly as she returned his embrace, only somewhat reluctantly.

Elijah tried to steer the conversation toward their goal for meeting. "Regardless of Davina's involvement and her unfortunate choices, it's safe to assume that Dahlia clearly released Lorenzo to kill Caroline and distract us all while she carried out her plans."

Bonnie shook her head mumbling, "I should have realized something was wrong when my locator spells worked so easily to find you and Davina. She used me to lead the group there. She _wanted_ us there."

Caroline smiled sadly. "You couldn't have known, Bonnie. We were all fooled. We couldn't have known that Davina would betray us for a false promise to resurrect Kol. Or that Freya would actually be Dahlia all along. Or Dahlia blocking me from accessing my power and killing Davina. Or Dahlia freeing Lorenzo who tried to burn me at the stake. Again. Or Dahlia killing Hayley and taking Hope."

Rebekah sighed dejectedly, closing her eyes for a moment. "Too much horror has happened today. I don't know how we're going forget it all and focus on a plan to stop Dahlia."

Bonnie bluntly interjected, "When I was a kid, I kept shoving tampons in the wrong hole." She noticed everyone's incredulous expressions and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "What? Tampons are confusing to first-timers."

Taking in everyone's uncomfortable and somewhat scandalized reactions, Caroline said wryly, "Thank you for that, Bonnie. We are sufficiently distracted now." She squared her shoulders and launched into her strategy. "The good news is that while I was unconscious, my mentor Abby paid me a visit. She provided me with some useful insight into Dahlia's plans. First, Dahlia is planning for the ritual to take place in an abandoned house in the Lower Ninth Ward. She will use the added boost of the area once being devastated by a natural disaster to perform her spell. She also will perform the ritual at sunrise to take advantage of the power the sun releases to renew its energy at dawn."

"You saw Abby," Bonnie choked out, hardly believing her ears. "How is she?"

"She's Abby. She's wonderful as always." Caroline smiled, fighting back her tears. "She misses us, but is still getting her kicks by snooping on our personal lives." She arched an eyebrow and said playfully, "Try staying in the mood now when you and Marcel are 'baking'."

Klaus hugged her tightly, the tension in his body loosened as he took some small comfort in Caroline's information. "Did Abby mention the ritual itself? What is involved, or how Hope will be…used," he trailed off, the disgust in his voice apparent.

Caroline nodded slowly, averting her eyes from his. "Dahlia will need to perform a ritual using Hope's blood. She will prepare a potion using the blood and then will drink it, absorbing Hope's future powers. Then, she will sacrifice Hope to seal the spell and ensure her powerful ascension."

The group was silent as they reflected on Caroline's difficult words. "What about you, love," Klaus suddenly asked, "How do you get your powers returned?" His concerned expression nearly broke her heart.

She smiled brightly and explained, "That's easy. I'm going to create a potion to counteract Dahlia's hold over my necklace, and once I'm in its presence and we release the potion, I will be able to reclaim my power and subdue Dahlia."

Bonnie rubbed her hands together excitedly. "Okay, gang. Now let's put together an elaborate trap involving roller skates, a duck and a suspended anvil. Also, we need to decide which song we wish to perform while running away from the bad guy."

Caroline laughed and added, "Also, Klaus, do I have to bribe you with Scooby snacks?"

As the group chuckled at the light-hearted banter, the tension left their faces and relief settled over them like a comforting blanket. Everything would be okay. They would save Hope from any harm.

After all, Caroline had promised.

Caroline bowed her head in shame, her heart heavy with her lies.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Warning: Graphic violence.

Author's note: Who knew that tampons were the universal symbol for comedy? Special thanks to bitch/vitch reviewer for the always amusing comments — and don't forget to send me your dry cleaning bill. :) So this is it — we've reached the final chapter in this journey. I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to reach out to me during this process. Your reviews kept me going! I must admit that even after putting the finishing touches on this final installment, I'm still drawn to this world I created and may try out some one-shots set in this universe. First, however, there's been a resurgence of interest in my _Call of the Defiled_ one-shot and I've been asked repeatedly to write a sequel, so that will be my first priority. Happy reading!

"The best way of keeping a secret is to pretend there isn't one."  
― Margaret Atwood, _The Blind Assassin_

The land silently bore its scars, an eternal soldier, stalwart and true. The devastating path of destruction Hurricane Katrina had carved throughout the Lower Ninth Ward was still visible, from the too-quiet streets to the crumbling, weed-choked foundations where people couldn't or wouldn't rebuild. The crippling chaos from the storm had bled into the land, infusing the area with enormous energy, making it the ideal site for Dahlia's ritual.

Bonnie and Caroline silently waded through tall grass, the crickets singing a mournful song that echoed the guilt that was Caroline's terrible burden. Much like her growing fear, Caroline pushed aside her anguish to focus on the unpleasant task ahead. They reached the battered basketball court and stood near the rusted chain link fence, waiting on Klaus, Elijah and Rebekah to join them. They had left Caroline and Bonnie to prepare the potion Caroline needed to reclaim her powers from Dahlia and had agreed to meet them at the abandoned court which marked the perimeter of the Lower Ninth Ward.

"What's taking them so long?" Bonnie shook her head in irritation. "Sunrise is happening in the next hour and we have to be there to prevent Dahlia from starting the ritual," she hissed impatiently.

"They'll be here soon," Caroline soothed, squeezing Bonnie's hand. "They wanted to deliver Davina's body to Marcel. Regardless of what she did, she still deserves to be mourned properly." The women shared a look of anger tinged with sorrow for the girl they once thought of as a younger sister.

"And Marcel is ensuring just that," Elijah announced, startling them with his sudden appearance along with Klaus and Rebekah.

Bonnie bowed her head and quietly asked, "How is he?"

"He refused to leave Davina's side. The grief carved into his face is too painful to witness," Rebekah offered, her thoughts drifting back to the utter defeat she saw within Marcel's normally warm brown gaze. She wondered if she would ever again see an easy smile grace his beautiful face.

Wary of the approaching sunrise, Klaus interrupted Bonnie before she could press Rebekah for more details about Marcel. "So the plan is simple — as we enter the house's ruins, Caroline will throw the potion, shattering the bottle and its contents will block Dahlia from using the necklace. Then, Caroline will be in possession of her powers once more, correct?"

As the group nodded in agreement, Bonnie sighed, "I wish we knew a weakness of Dahlia's that we could exploit." A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Something that would really terrify her or at least bring on enough confusion that we could make our move."

Caroline snorted, "So Bonnie wants to throw tampons at Dahlia. Any other suggestions?" She watched in amusement as Klaus, Rebekah and Elijah all shifted uncomfortably while Bonnie merely rolled her eyes. The group proceeded quietly into the heart of the nearly abandoned neighborhood, the windowless, broken homes echoing the emptiness Caroline felt as she marched toward the impending battle.

In the center of a desolate strip of land, the knee-high grass growing with wild abandon, stood the remains of a small home. The roof was perched precariously off-center, as though the slightest breeze would send it careening off to the side. Through the open doorway, an entire wall was lit by candles of varying shapes and heights. Before the group could get any closer, Dahlia's high, cruel voice sliced through the tension, "I can smell the tendrils of smoke wafting in the breeze. Come in, dear Caroline, and join us."

Hope's tiny cry followed her aunt's mocking invitation, causing the group to stiffen with dread. A painful longing flashed across Klaus' face when he heard his child's distress, and Caroline wanted more than anything to be able to comfort him. However, she could not be distracted by her feelings for him. She knew what was coming.

Suddenly, Caroline found herself being pulled through the air, her small body yanked into the house and pinned against a wall. With a resounding thud that sent multiple bricks tumbling, Elijah and Klaus joined her uncomfortable position against the wall. She held the tiny glass potion in her fist, trying to determine when would be the best time to throw it. She struggled against the invisible bonds on her wrists and ankles to no avail and noticed Elijah and Klaus were rendered equally powerless.

In the center of the room stood the remnants of a fireplace, the broken red bricks only reaching to Dahlia's waist as she stood behind it, a sinister, self-satisfied smile creeping across her face. A fire burned brightly within the confines of the crumbling structure, the orange and yellow flames whispering their wicked wishes. Dahlia held the baby in her arms, her false tones of reassurance falling on deaf ears as Hope continued to squirm and fuss. A warped oak table served as a makeshift altar, and it was littered with ritual objects meant to serve only the darkest of purposes. Tiny animal hearts, entrails and other meat had been left out to spoil in the humid night air. The foul stench that assaulted her senses did little to calm her nerves. Dahlia was using her power to tap into some of the blackest pits on the other side.

Caroline spied the stone fertility idol of Freyr resting upon the altar, the disproportionate phallus hard to miss. "You know, I've grown quite fond of my mortar and pestle, but it takes a special type of lonely to build an altar to your dildo, Dahlia."

Dahlia sneered, "Your crude words merely underscore how powerless you are to stop me. You and my family should be honored — you will witness my sacred ascension."

"Bitch please, no one wants to see your mom-jeans o-face," Caroline retorted.

Dahlia's wild eyes darkened as she screeched, "Enough!" She cast a glare at the open doorway and Rebekah and Bonnie came hurtling into the room, noses bleeding from the force of Dahlia's power. "I will command your respect," she hissed through clenched teeth as she stared down at Rebekah and Bonnie's bent forms. The girls cried out in agony, the veins bulging in their skin as whatever evil spell Dahlia had cast painfully seared through their bodies. This was why she had brought them into the house last — they were the warm-up act before the ritual. Dahlia wanted to wring as much pain from them as possible before she committed the ultimate betrayal of sacrificing her blood.

"Release them," Klaus shouted, still struggling to move from the wall where he was pinned next to Caroline. "I will send you to hell, witch," he growled menacingly.

"Not if I send you first, Niklaus," Dahlia promised.

The rosy-pink hues of dawn's first light peeked through the broken window and Caroline realized she was almost out of time. Fighting against the force of Dahlia's power, she flexed her fingers and dropped the potion at her feet, the glass shattering. With the potion released, the relief and optimism on the group's faces broke Caroline's heart and she turned her head in shame. They all seemed to hold their breath as they waited for Caroline to reclaim her power. Even Dahlia appeared uncertain as she stared at the viscous brown potion that slowly spread onto the floor.

Time appeared to stand still in that moment and as Caroline failed to free herself from the wall where Dahlia's magic had trapped her, Klaus' shoulders sagged as he hoarsely called out, "Caroline?"

With tears building, Caroline shook her head and said mournfully, "It's not working."

Caroline's revelation infused a desperate, renewed energy within Klaus and Elijah as they once again threw themselves against the invisible barrier that kept them against the wall beside Caroline. "No," they bellowed as Dahlia's dark eyes glittered maliciously and she glanced down at Rebekah and Bonnie's trembling forms once more.

"It appears your witch will not be your salvation. However, dawn is upon us and it's time to begin the ritual. You have been granted a moment's reprieve. Enjoy it while you can," Dahlia spat at the women who struggled to sit upright as her hold over them lessened slightly. She sat Hope upon the altar and began adding the spoiled meat and henbane to a copper bowl.

Removing a gore-covered silver arm-ring from the concoction, she cuffed the twisted metal around one of Hope's chubby arms. "Witness your failure, Caroline," Dahlia haughtily called out. "I have marked the sacrifice as mine with the arm-ring of my kinsmen upon which oaths are sworn. I will spill the life force of my bloodline," she taunted with a wicked smile.

Refusing to acknowledge Dahlia's megalomania, Caroline focused her energy on the spilled potion between her and Klaus. As she inhaled the vapors, she could feel the potion working its will. Catching her hybrid lover's fearful gray eyes, she reached out to him with her mind. _'Klaus, can you hear me?'_

His eyes widened as he silently answered, _'Yes, how is this possible? I thought the potion failed to restore your powers?'_

' _The potion was never meant to restore my powers. It was designed for this moment. So I could tell you the real plan,'_ Caroline replied.

" _What do you mean?'_ Klaus asked, confused.

' _When Abby came to me, she told me that in order to defeat Dahlia, I had to allow her to complete the first part of her ritual.'_ Caroline closed her eyes as she cursed herself for what she was about to say. _'Dahlia must add some of Hope's blood to the potion.'_

' _No!'_ Klaus' strained voice growled in her mind, and her heart ached as she could detect his feelings of helplessness. _'I don't want my child to be hurt. Find another way to stop this!'_

' _We have no choice,'_ Caroline replied weakly. _'Dahlia must believe that the potion is complete so that she will drink it. The moment that she drinks the potion, you will be able to make your move.'_

' _How is that possible,'_ he asked skeptically.

' _Because the potion will not work for her.'_ Caroline's wide blue eyes sought Klaus', silently begging him to have faith in her. _'Once Dahlia drinks the potion, she will be weakened and we will no longer be bound to the wall. You must rush to her and take possession of Abby's necklace. This will restore my powers and then we can defeat Dahlia.'_

' _Will my daughter be safe,'_ Klaus asked, desperately searching her face for answers.

' _Yes,'_ She vowed, a tear falling down her cheek. _'I need you to trust me, Klaus. I love you and I swear that Hope will be free from Dahlia.'_

His gray eyes widened at her confession. _'Caroline, you have my heart. And you have my trust. Always.'_ He gave her a smile that she returned numbly, still in awe of the tender moment that had transpired between them.

Caroline could feel the remnants of her potion fading as she lost the remaining traces of her connection with Klaus. The reassuring warmth she had felt while she and Klaus had been temporarily sheltered from Dahlia's madness was suddenly ripped away. Her attention was captured by Dahlia who held one of Hope's arms aloft and her heart clenched painfully as the deranged witch violently slashed into the baby's skin with the iron knife. Hope's wails tore the air as her blood steadily flowed into the copper bowl to mingle with the other ingredients.

Dahlia lifted the bowl and greedily licked her lips, allowing her dark gaze to capture Caroline's once more. She quickly drank down the liquid, tipping the bowl to capture the final drops of potion. She set the bowl down unsteadily and clasped a hand to her chest as her triumphant smile vanished.

Klaus glanced at Caroline long enough for her to signal him with a nod, and then he flashed forward quickly, reaching out a clawed hand and yanking Abby's locket from Dahlia's neck. The thin silver chain twinkled in the morning rays, emanating a small glow as Caroline felt a resurgence of strength invigorate her. Klaus threw the locket to her and as it touched her fingers, she could almost hear Abby's sweet voice once more. _You live on for me with all the blessings I can give._

"No!" Dahlia uselessly pawed at the ritual objects on the altar. "I don't understand," she gasped.

"And you never will," Caroline swore, waving an arm and sending Dahlia's body toward a wall, effectively pinning her there.

Rebekah and Bonnie shakily stood up from the floor after Elijah fed them some of his blood. They ran toward the crying infant, but Klaus scooped her up to heal her with his blood. He cradled her gently in his arms, kissing the top of her head as she quieted.

Elijah calmly unbuttoned his suit jacket. "Bonnie," he asked, "Would you be so kind as to step outside with Hope? I would rather her not witness what transpires next."

"Wait," Caroline called out. She focused on the blood-streaked metal clasped around Hope's arm, and clenching her fist, it evaporated into tendrils of foul black smoke. After a reassuring nod from Caroline, Bonnie carefully held Hope to her chest as she quickly went outside.

"That cannot be," Dahlia weakly protested. "I marked the sacrifice as mine!"

"She was never yours," Caroline faced her, the fury etched onto her ivory face. She stepped closer to Dahlia, her enemy's fear spoiling the sweet morning air. "The failed ritual has irrevocably weakened you." She spied a trickle of blood running down Dahlia's thin neck where Klaus had yanked away Abby's locket. It was a marvel in his anger that the hybrid hadn't merely decapitated his foe. As she glanced at Klaus, Rebekah and Elijah who now formed a half-circle behind her, the predatory gleam in the siblings' eyes informed her that they had no interest in a swift death. "Take your vengeance," Caroline told them, stepping out of their way. "Then I shall take mine," she vowed darkly.

The siblings advanced to Dahlia, who attempted not to cower before their palpable rage. "You have betrayed your blood, Dahlia," Elijah's harsh words cut through the air, and Dahlia felt their terrible weight upon whatever remained of her soul.

"A blood betrayal is the worst offense among our people," Rebekah continued, her tone colored by her hatred of the woman before her.

"And as such, its punishment requires the deepest of cuts," Klaus ended with a malicious smile.

"Children, please," Dahlia whimpered in defeat. "Surely we can reach an accord. I could be a useful ally."

Klaus laughed darkly at her suggestion. "Dear aunt, this _is_ our accord." His lips twisted into a wicked grin. "A Mikaelson family peace summit."

Rebekah held aloft the iron knife from Dahlia's altar and said, "For daring to touch my niece, you must pay." She skillfully sliced the blade through Dahlia's right wrist, exerting just enough pressure to cut to the bone before dropping the knife and grasping the bloody arm with both of her hands. She gazed at the screaming witch as she snapped off the wrist with an unsettling crunch. Keeping her grip on the severed hand, she stepped back, allowing her brothers their justice.

"For daring to gaze upon my niece with dark intentions, you must pay," Elijah swore, his fingers reaching out to lightly tap the trembling enemy's temple.

"Elijah," Caroline interrupted. "Only take one, please."

"Very well," Elijah agreed reluctantly. Without warning, he violently plunged his fingers deeply into Dahlia's eye socket, withdrawing his hand just as quickly with the bloody remnants of her eye. Dahlia shrieked in agony as the blood poured forth from her ruined socket and bloody stump. Only the power of Caroline's magic continued to hold her upright against the wall.

Leaning forward, Klaus decreed, "For speaking nothing but lies to your blood, you must pay." Ignoring Dahlia's cries, he wrenched open her mouth and grasped her tongue, severing it messily with his claws. Dahlia coughed and sputtered as the blood flowed down her jaw and she gazed at her self-appointed jury and executioners in fear.

Caroline raised her arms, stepping into the brilliant morning rays. Summoning her powers, she channeled the sun's energy and sent a wall of fire to consume Dahlia's broken form. She thought she would feel more as she took her vengeance, but the only emotion that settled upon her heart was a sense of completion. She had saved the child from a terrible fate and had successfully put down a dangerous foe. As she caught Dahlia's hate-filled stare, she viciously reminded her, "I swore I would see you burn, witch. I keep my promises."

Klaus stood beside her, squeezing her hand as they silently watched the raging fire. As the flames consumed their enemy, Caroline called out, "You still owe me a car, bitch!" Chuckling, they waited until Dahlia had been reduced to ashes before Caroline allowed the flames to die.

They stepped outside of the broken down cottage to join Bonnie who was anxiously comforting a crying Hope. "Is it finished," Bonnie asked warily.

"Almost," Caroline said cryptically.

Klaus pulled Hope into his arms, gently rocking her as he turned toward Caroline to ask, "Sweetheart, how did you know that Dahlia's ritual would fail?"

Everyone stared at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation. Taking a deep breath, she finally unburdened her soul and released the last secret she had been keeping. "When Abby came to me while I was unconscious, she not only foretold what would transpire here with Dahlia, but she also revealed why the ritual wouldn't work." She stared at Hope, her tiny head tucked firmly under Klaus' chin, blissfully unaware of the life-changing moment that was taking place. "The ritual didn't work for Dahlia because the main ingredient had to be the blood of a first-born Mikaelson. Klaus is not Hope's biological father."

"What," Rebekah asked shrilly. "But you said that Dahlia created a fertility spell to ensure Klaus would impregnate the first werewolf he slept with once his curse was broken."

Caroline noticed how Klaus clutched Hope tightly to him as though afraid some unknown force would appear and try to take away the baby in his arms. "Yes," Caroline patiently explained, "however, Dahlia couldn't have predicted that the first werewolf Klaus slept with after the curse was broken was one that was already pregnant."

"Already pregnant," Elijah murmured. "Did Haley know? Did she willingly try to pass off another man's child as my brother's?"

"That I cannot say for sure," she replied, shaking her head.

Rebekah looked thoughtfully at Hope, as though an idea had suddenly struck her. "Did Abby know who had gotten Haley pregnant?"

Caroline bowed her head and reluctantly said, "Yes. It was Marcel."

Bonnie gasped, "No, that's not possible!"

Caroline recalled when Rebekah first introduced her to Hope how she had assumed that Hope's dark, curly hair and wide brown eyes came from Haley. But now she could clearly see how Marcel's mischievous countenance was alive and well within the tiny girl. "Actually, it is possible when Marcel counts a jealous witch as one of his lovers and she occasionally curses him with temporary humanity as punishment for his man-whoring ways."

Bonnie's eyes widened. "Oh God. I-I didn't think something like this would happen! I just wanted to teach him a lesson." She shook her head sadly as tears gathered in her eyes.

Rebekah also seemed to struggle with Caroline's revelation. She hesitantly looked at Hope who had fallen asleep in Klaus' arms. "What-what happens now," she asked uncertainly.

Elijah carefully looked between his brother and Caroline, noticing the heavy silence between them. He nodded to his sister and Bonnie, "I say we take this day for what it is — a victory. The rest can be sorted out at our leisure. Let's head back to our home and make plans to celebrate, shall we?" With a brief nod in Klaus' direction, he flashed away with Rebekah and Bonnie.

Caroline tried to read the faraway look in Klaus' steel gray eyes, but found it impossible to decipher. Was he furious with her for holding onto the secret of Hope's paternity? Did he feel that she had put Hope in danger by not revealing the entire plan beforehand? She bit her lip, summoning her courage to speak. "So…that happened."

"Yes." His brief answer had her at a loss. What did that mean?

"Now what," She asked apprehensively, glancing at Hope who was peacefully slumbering against his chest.

"Well," Klaus began slowly, gazing at Hope carefully. "I believe I'll take _my_ daughter home now." As he clutched Hope tightly, he held out his other hand to Caroline. "Do you happen to know any good bedtime stories?"

Caroline smiled brightly, relief flooding her entire body as she realized that the revelation about Hope's paternity hadn't changed Klaus' perception of the child. Nor did it appear that he was angry with her for keeping it a secret. Of course, there would be lingering questions such as if Haley knew she was pregnant before sleeping with Klaus, and if so, why would she keep Hope's true paternity a secret, not to mention what role Marcel would play within the child's life, but those were questions for another day.

She squeezed his hand, relieved that he was still willing to be Hope's protector. She looked up at him, wanting to burn into her memory the look of peaceful contentment upon his handsome face. "Yes, I know some excellent bedtime stories. Enough to take up tonight's bedtime, and tomorrow's, and the next day's and the next…" she trailed off happily.

He smirked, "Actually love, tomorrow night I think I'll be in the mood to hear some blues."

Caroline winked at Klaus and replied, "I know just the place."


	18. Chapter 18

Author's note: Hello, faithful readers! I've posted the first one-shot in my series that takes place in this world. All of these chapters will occur after the events of _Conjuring_. The one-shot series is called _Rituals and Romance: A Companion Piece to Conjuring a Heart._


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